


Star Signs

by Aria_Cinabun



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Skephalo - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Future, Hunger Games AU, M/M, Skephalo, Zodiac Signs instead of Districts, everyone dies, jk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:27:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 55,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25893634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aria_Cinabun/pseuds/Aria_Cinabun
Summary: Twelve Zodiac Houses. Twenty-four champions.Twenty four friends.One family.Will they kill each other, or will they prevail together?And who will be crowned the winner of the Survival Games?
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Dave | Technoblade, Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Darryl Noveschosch & Sapnap, Dave | Technoblade & TommyInnit, Dave | Technoblade & Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson, Zak Ahmed & Vincent | A6d, Zak Ahmed/Darryl Noveschosch
Comments: 352
Kudos: 545





	1. Prelude

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! So this does contain SkepHalo, but the perspectives will switch extremely often throughout the book but will slow down near the end as everyone dies.  
> Just kidding.  
> It will usually go in order of Ruling House, from one to twelve, until the end of the book, as I said earlier until it's sporadic and random. I don't know if that's an actual writing style, but if so, please tell me what it's called.  
> Note: I only ship their personas, not their real-life selves. As usual, there will be absolutely no smut.  
> This fic was written for those of my fans who can predict my writing too well. I guarantee this one won't be as easy.  
> ~Aria

To whoever is reading this journal, let it be known that this is the true history of this world, the  _ true  _ beginning of the country we named Rebellion's Land. That whatever you think to be real, drop it right now. 

Because this is the story of twenty-four heroes and no villains in sight - this is the story of how twenty-four brave individuals  ** ________________________ ** . 

This is the story of how twenty-four people saved a society.

My name is  ** ______ ** , and I sit here today telling the story of the twenty-four people -  ** _________ ** , the chosen that  ** __________________ ** .

To  ** _____ ** and  ** _____ ** and  ** _____ ** and  ** _____ ** and  ** _____ ** and  ** _____ ** and  ** _____ ** and  ** _____ ** and  ** _____ ** and  ** _____ ** and  ** _____ ** and  ** _____ ** and  ** _____ ** and  ** _____ ** and  ** _____ ** and  ** _____  ** and  ** _____ ** and  ** _____ ** and  ** _____ ** and  ** _____ ** and  ** _____ ** and  ** _____ ** and  ** _____ ** and  ** _____ ** . To those that  ** _________  ** so others could prevail. This is their story, the real one. 

You may have heard of them. 


	2. Chapter 1

**~Darryl's POV | July 27th | Aries, First Ruling House~**

"T _oday you should work to tune into the larger, slower-moving trends in your life, Aries. Consider making some long-term monetary and emotional investments. There is a great deal of prosperity available to you now but beware of deception on the part of others. Watch out for fast talkers and people who promise everything yet deliver nothing. Have confidence that you can decipher what's real and what isn't._ "

Darryl listened carefully to the daily horoscope. Next to him, Tommy, the sixteen-year-old kid, was shoving bacon into his mouth, glancing around - he'd stolen Darryl's bacon, _again_ , and that was against the rules, and Darryl was half-tempted to report him before he shook his head. No. He wasn't going to betray his friends. On his other side, he saw the brown-haired girl named Stress nibble on her eggs, looking a bit lost in thought. He was slightly annoyed by the announcer, or whoever was behind the loud voice that blasted into the dining hall every morning - but no.

To think that was treason.

**~Cleo's POV | July 27th | Taurus, Second Ruling House~**

" _Let your artistic nature loose today, Taurus. Add a touch of creativity to whatever project, situation, or person you encounter. Let your fantasy world extend to every aspect of your being and keep an open mind for new ideas and methods. Incorporate traditional values into new concepts. The new and the old methods may seem incompatible at first, but it's your challenge to make them work together._ "

Cleo perked up at the announcer's voice. Artistic nature meant that they'd be allowed to do art today in school. Across the table, Harvey smirked at her, knowing what she was thinking. She stuck her tongue out at him. In response, he threw a bit of his apple at her. She caught it and bit into it, grinning at her friend. A part of her wanted to do art _every_ day, no matter what the horoscope said.

But to think that was treason.

**~Techno's POV | July 27th | Gemini, Third Ruling House~**

" _Don't gamble away your resources, Gemini. Take the safest route. There's a great deal of energy out there encouraging you to act, but beware of adopting too stubborn of an attitude. This will only succeed in alienating you from the very people you rely on for support. Maintain a strong, healthy balance between old and new. Try to be more open to change and, by all means, adopt a more flexible attitude._ "

False poked Techno's side. "That means you," she whispered in a low voice. 

Techno snorted. Flexible attitude - he totally had a flexible attitude. Maybe. As a Gemini, he was _supposed_ to, but honestly, he didn't know if he fit the Gemini personality, even if False said that he did perfectly. 

But to think that was treason.

**~Hanna's POV | July 27th | Cancer, Fourth Ruling House~**

" _Get things out in the open today, Cancer. If someone seems to insult you, call them on it. Letting things fester inside only destroys your self-esteem. You'd also be in danger of losing the respect of others. This could very well be a situation in which everyone but you sees the truth. Try not to let this happen. Be bold and assertive, and don't let others pull the wool over your eyes._ "

Hanna winced. She didn't have a bold bone in her body. Vurb yawned from his position at the table near her. He _definitely_ had a bold personality - though it had gotten him in trouble more than once. 

Hanna wanted to be herself, not the shell of a person she was forced to be - a _Cancer_. 

But to think that was treason.

**~Clay's POV | July 27th | Leo, Fifth Ruling House~**

" _Stick to the tried and true today, Leo. Don't be afraid to make any last-minute changes of plan. Compliment others when they do something well, and show appreciation for their positive qualities. You'll gain their respect. Celebrate the small things in life and appreciate all that you have - physically as well as emotionally. Let other people share in your warm and generous spirit._ "

Clay sighed as he shifted in his golden robes, watching as Grian gave him a small smirk from his seat across from him. Clay knew what the younger boy was thinking, even as Grian turned his attention back to Scar and Vincent, scowling and wiping at his robes, for some stain the other two troublemakers had no doubt caused. Clay changed his decisions way _too_ often for people to be comfortable with it, though it helped make split-second decisions when fighting during combat class. He hated fitting right into the horoscope that this moment. He hated the fact that his House, Leo, was in power right now, and things would be harder during classes. He should be overjoyed. 

He was not.

But to think that was treason.

**~Wilbur's POV | July 27th | Virgo, Sixth Ruling House~**

" _Reap all the riches that a new day has to offer, Virgo. Every day brings new opportunities and the chance for rapid advancement. Grab the things offered to you. You have a great deal of potential, but potential is one of those things that do no good until you realize it and harness it. Today is one day in which you can take an important step toward manifesting your dreams._ "

Wilbur sighed when he realized he'd gotten ketchup on his silver robes. His professors would be horrified by his lack of cleanliness, but he always managed to sway them with his charisma and calm voice. 

The horoscope was talking about new opportunities - that meant that they'd be trying new things in his classes, such as combat class to prepare for the Survival Games. He really hated combat class. He wanted to go back to his room and play his guitar. He didn't want to to this. 

He was a Virgo. He was supposed to be a good friend, but Wilbur just pushed everyone away. He didn't fit his role as a Virgo much at all, but he liked to pretend. He wanted to be out of here.

But to think that was treason.

**~Geo's POV | July 27th | Libra, Seventh Ruling House~**

" _You may need to adjust today in order to relate well to people and situations, Libra. Things are a bit off-kilter, and you may find that the harder you try to fit in, the more liable you are to feel like an oddball. Try not to get caught up in others' battles. Maintain a balance between real life and fantasy. Don't get so caught up in someone else's world that you forget to deal with your own._ "

Geo groaned silently at today's horoscope. _Adjusting_. That meant instead of something cool like programming, they'd have a meditation class today. 

"Dang it," he heard Jacob whisper, both of them praying nobody could hear them in the blue-robed dining hall. But nobody was listening to their conversation - just two friends who were eating breakfast together.

Sometimes, Geo silently wished that the professors or the guards would hear them, just so he could scream his unease with his life at them, before they removed him from the Libra House. 

But to think that was treason.

**~George's POV | July 27th | Scorpio, Eighth Ruling House~**

" _Be yourself today - 100 percent you, Scorpio. The world needs more individuality. Revel in your unique qualities and be generous about sharing them with the world. Feel free to adopt a new and unconventional way of doing something - anything. Beware, however, that there may be a strong, grounding force that's trying to tie you down to tradition. Don't feel pressured to give in to the social norm._ "

George frowned into his cereal at the horoscope. It had always been nagging him how controlling his House was - they made them wear black robes, which George didn't enjoy, they forced them to attend classes - no, no, he couldn't think that. Even so, he hated what was going on in the dining hall right now; and the Survival Games that were soon to come. 

But to think that was treason.

**~Mumbo's POV | July 27th | Sagittarius, Ninth Ruling House~**

" _Today is a very expansive day in which you can make great progress in all of your endeavors, Sagittarius. Be careful of deception by others. There may be a surreal cloud that covers up reality. You may need to do a little digging to locate the truth. Maintain a mellow attitude to stay safe. Sudden, extreme actions fueled by anger or fear are likely to get you into trouble._ "

Mumbo listened, but he didn't really care. Today's horoscope was not for him - he rarely spoke to anyone anyway. His house, the Sagittarius, were supposed to be natural-born leaders. He definitely was not.

He wanted to go back to his room and tinker with his newest mechanism. Instead of attending today's classes, which were usually seduction, or learning how to be a leader, or how to be adventurous - Mumbo liked none of these things. He was quiet, he was a follower, and he wanted to stay in his room and invent things. He wasn't a very good Sagittarius. 

But to think that was treason.

**_~_ Zak's POV | July 27th | Capricorn, Tenth Ruling House~ **

_"Tune into your dreams today, Capricorn. Do you often feel intensely jealous thinking the people around you are living amazing lives while you're stuck in a dull, boring routine? The only person who can pull you out of this rut is you, so stop complaining and do it. Change is easier than it seems at first. Let your imagination take control and work toward manifesting your most fanciful goals."_

Zak snorted into his breakfast, looking over the table at Toby, the younger kid trying to keep a straight face as well. Next to him, Iskall's face remained neutral, but they were all tired of this repetitiveness.

But to think that was treason.

**~Mega's POV | July 27th | Aquarius, Eleventh Ruling House~**

" _There are extremely slow-moving, subtle energies coming into play today that may not be so easily felt, Aquarius. What they provide is a key to manifesting your wildest dreams. Fantasy can become your reality, but it may only come one small, subtle step at a time. Don't give up. Focus on the unconventional way to get things done. You'll eventually achieve everything your heart desires as long as you truly believe you can._ "

Mega sat alone in the dining hall, listening to the annoying voice that sounded over the speakers. He glanced around at the people who wore the same sky-blue robes as him, as they ate their breakfast quietly. Like they did every single day. Like he'd done for as long as he remembered. He didn't want to do this anymore.

But to think that was treason.

**~Nick's POV | July 27th | Pisces, Twelfth Ruling House~**

_"There may be a great deal of conflict in your life today, Pisces. Different people and situations seem to be pulling you in all directions. Your sanity is being put to the test. Try not to be too stubborn, because this will only cause more tension between you and the situation. You have the potential to stress out about the smallest things. Try to avoid this if you can._ "

"Conflict," his older friend, Phil, snorted. " _Conflict_. Tell me, Nick, do you know anything about conflict?"

"Shut up," Nick hissed back, glancing around to see if any of the guards in the dining hall were listening. Luckily, they weren't. 

Phil shrugged, his easy-going attitude really grating on Nick's nerves today. "Why not?"

"To think that is treason."


	3. Chapter 2

**~Darryl's POV | July 27th | Aries, First Ruling House~**

_Ambitious._ Yeah, no. 

_Independent._ He needed his friends. 

_Impatient._ No, not really. 

"As you know," his professor droned on, as Darryl elbowed his younger blonde-haired friend, Tommy, who was drooling on his desk. The sixteen-year-old frowned at him, but raised his blue eyes and stared at the professor. 

Tommy wasn't much of an independent either, Darryl knew, but he _certainly_ was impatient. With nearly everything. On his left, Stress was taking notes in a neat, scrawly script. Darryl had his notes in front of him, just in case there was a pop quiz, but Tommy had barely anything. So much for being independent. 

"The Survival Games are in about a week," the professor said, suddenly taking the attention of everyone in the class as he leveled a glare at them. "We are the first ruling house. I expect better than the misfits that I see in front of me. I expect us to _win this year_ . Taurus won the last decade, and I _refuse_ to see that happen again. They gloated for far too long."

Not that _he_ would know, Darryl mused. They didn't get to see the other houses much, not unless they participated in the Survival Games, but those were deadly and often unpredictable - or certain times every few years that they got to socialize with the other star signs and perhaps choose a significant other they could procreate future generations with. 

Tommy groaned. "I don't see why this is important," he moaned, setting his face down on the desk again.

"What if you get chosen?" Stress said quietly, not even looking up from her notebook. 

Tommy rolled his eyes. "What are the _chances_ of that, Stress? Very little. Besides, I'd destroy anyone in my path."

Stress sighed, finally putting down her pen. "Sorry, Tommy, you may be the best swordsman between the three of us, but there are probably _masters_ out there," she pointed out. 

Darryl rubbed his forehead. He really wanted a muffin. 

**~Cleo's POV | July 27th | Taurus, Second Ruling House~**

She was putting all her concentration onto shaping a small figure out of a sort of gel-clay that she could bring with her to her classes as she pleased.

"We are the second ruling house," her teacher was saying. "I expect us to do well - better, perhaps, than Aries." Cleo hid her frown. She didn't really know the point of pitting twenty-four sixteen through twenty-five-year-olds against each other in a fight to the death. But it wasn't really her choice to decide what was best for the people - besides, after the Survival Games, she could maybe find a match with a Cancer or a Virgo; the two top love matches for Taurus. Choosing a person from a different house would make people look down on her, but it wasn't exactly illegal.

And Cleo didn't want to get married. She wanted to become a professor and teach the kids. It was her calling...but it wasn't her choice. In the next three years, she'd find a love match, and they'd move out of the Zodiac Domes to whatever area they moved to - the teachers said it was a surprise - and she'd find her calling then.

 _Find_ meaning that she'd raise children if she got that unlucky, or one of the elders would give her a stupid job. 

Harvey nudged her, and Cleo rolled her eyes at him, brushing a strand of orange hair out of her face. 

"You look irritable," Harvey whispered.

"I just want to get this day over with," she groaned, using her fist to smash her little clay caterpillar into the table; leaving a splotch behind. 

"Aw," Harvey complained. "I was gonna name him Apple."

Cleo rolled her eyes. "What is it with you and Apples?"

"Taurus 206896," the professor said frostily, and Cleo stiffened at the mention of her ID number. "Please be quiet so I can continue this lesson."

Cleo nodded, biting her cheek to keep the neutrality visible on her face as the professor _finally_ turned away from her. 

Harvey chuckled, and she punched him in the side. He groaned under his breath, cringing away from her as she raised her fist to hit him again. 

**~False's POV | July 27th | Gemini, Third Ruling House~**

She saw the looks thrown at her as she hefted her practice sword and leaped at Techno again, the pink-haired man parrying her neatly and spinning again. 

It was looked down upon for females to be fighters - even though females were sometimes - based on luck - chosen to participate in the Survival Games.

Seriously.

False had no _doubt_ that if she was chosen - she didn't really want to be because she was a bit against killing people - that people would underestimate her. 

She ducked to avoid Techno's full swing that would've beheaded her if it had been a real sword. If it _had_ connected, it certainly would've knocked her out.

"Nice try," she said, laughing a bit as Techno grinned at her. 

The others had ceased their fighting to watch the two go at it again. Gemini, by definition, was versatile, expressive, curious, and kind. They certainly weren't fighters by nature. However, Techno had pointed out that if they wanted to win the Survival Games, the professors couldn't really keep the Gemini from practicing.

Not that False or Techno had _any_ intention of being in the Survival Games. It would probably end up with their demise. But fighting made False feel _free_ \- not the hurting part, the _knowledge_ that she could protect others.

She knew that Techno just enjoyed beating people up, though. He wasn't evil, exactly...more neutral. Chaotic. He also fit the Gemini personality of being able to read a room - not literally. False wished the was a _true_ Gemini - not the person she was pretending to be. 

She brought up her sword to push against Techno's raw strength. This particular part of sword fighting wasn't really in her forte - the backing away, ducking, and neat flips were, however. Techno relied more on brute strength, but he could also, if need be, be versatile. 

She sighed when his hand came to hers, the one that clutched the sword, and tore it out of her grip. She stared down the length of his wooden practice blade, rolling her eyes as he celebrated.

"If you wish to defeat me, train for another five-hundred years!"

"Yeah, yeah," she grumbled back. " _This_ time."

**~Hanna's POV | July 28th | Cancer, Fourth Ruling House~**

Hanna picked at her food again, unable to eat the yummy strawberries that littered her plate.

" _It's okay to be wrong, Cancer. If you know you've made a mistake, feel free to admit it. Don't let your ego stand in the way of progress. Others won't want to deal with you if you insist that what you're doing is right all the time when perhaps it isn't. Your mind may be a bit more fragile on a day like this, so try to be more sensitive and receptive than usual._ "

"You're always wrong," Vurb told her jokingly, shoveling food in his mouth like he did every morning.

Hanna ignored him, feeling unsettled. The Survival Games were taking place in six days, and even though she _knew_ the chances of herself being picked were very small. She wasn't _bad_ at fighting, per se, she just didn't get the hype around it. It was trying to _hurt_ someone, and Hanna didn't really care if that person was the worst murderer in the world, she didn't think she could raise a sword to someone that wasn't out of self-defense. 

She snorted. In that way, at least she fit the Cancer persona of being compassionate. Intuitive...maybe. Sentimental, kind of. Protective...eh. It depended on the situation. Hanna didn't raise her voice to yell at people that often; Vurb did that job when she'd gotten picked on. 

"Hey, Hanna, you good?" Vurb asked her quietly.

Hanna started. "I - what? Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." She wasn't. After the Survival Games started, they'd be forced to sit in their classroom and watch the tributes slaughter each other. She didn't want to watch that. 

She would probably throw up. The cameras were live and didn't hold anything back.

"Don't worry, you're not going to be picked for the Survival Games," Vurb said intuitively, always the good Cancer.

She snorted. "That's not what I'm worried about."

He frowned. "The rest of them, including me, are." Curb gestured to the rest of the violet-clothed people in the dining hall. 

Hanna sighed. "I'm going to have to watch people _die_ , Vurb."

"Oh," he said in a quiet voice. "Compassion, huh?"

"I guess." 

**~Grian's POV | July 28th | Leo, Fifth Ruling House~**

" _Be careful about being too critical today, Leo. You're likely to turn people away if you aren't careful with how you express yourself. This is a good time to listen and receive as opposed to delivering information. Let things stew in your head for a while before you make any major decisions. You're likelier to find a greater balance in the situation if you slow down and back off a bit._ "

Grian fit the Leo persona perfectly to everyone that knew him.

Dramatic, outgoing, fiery, and self-assured. 

He was often used as an example of a perfect Leo.

He knew he was not. Far from it. Every day he fought to get rid of the sliver of doubt that always remained in his head - the voice telling him to rebel, to get out of the Zodiac Domes, to stop following the rules and _run_.

He was afraid if he told Scar, Clay, or Vincent that, they would report him to the professors or the guards. He was afraid. He was so afraid. 

He was scared that he would be picked for the Survival Games. That _any_ of his friends would be picked. That he might have to watch them die - honestly, only Clay had a _real_ chance to win; the dude was a master with a shield - or worse...that he might have to kill one of _them_ to win.

Inside, he knew he wouldn't. _Couldn't_. He would never be able to live with the fact he'd killed one of his friends. 

Grian put his face in his hands, ignoring Scar's questions that came to whether he was okay, and what was going on.

He wasn't fine. He wouldn't be fine until he was sure none of his friends, or him, were picked for the Survival Games.

He didn't care that the professors said that it would make him legendary. 

Legends were dead people. 

**~Wilbur's POV | July 29th | Virgo, Sixth Ruling House~**

He clutched his guitar to his chest as he strummed it, humming gently under his breath as he imagined the lyrics that could possibly fit the flow of the song he'd created. 

Five days. 

Five days until he had to watch people he might/possibly know die.

Five days until the Survival Games. 

_Connect with others and feel the strength of shared resources._

One of the lines from today's horoscope filled Wilbur's mind, and he rolled his eyes. He preferred being alone. It was _practical_.

At least, that was the excuse he always used when the professors were trying to get him to do group projects. He always made the excuse that it was more practical for him, and they always backed off, because that was supposed to be a main trait of Virgos. 

And sure, Wilbur wasn't _nearly_ as practical as he pretended to be, but so long as nobody annoyed him and interrupted his quiet-music-time he didn't much care about being alone. 

It was peaceful. It was beautiful.

It took his thoughts away from the Survival Games, and the twenty-four contestants that would be randomly drawn from the bowl. He prayed that nobody would be picked from Virgo this year. He wished he was three years older - he would be twenty-six, then, and be too old to partake in the Survival Games.

But alas, he wasn't.

But what were the chances he was picked?

Close to none. 


	4. Chapter 3

** ~Jacob's POV | August 3rd | Libra, Seventh Ruling House~ **

_ "And now, we will be drawing the names of the twenty-four lucky contestants to participate in the Survival Games!" _

Jacob squeezed his eyes shut, his fists clenched under the table.  _ Please don't be me. Please don't be me.  _ Next to him, Geo was doing the exact same thing. 

_ "From the First Ruling House, Aries, we have - three contestants! Wow, that's higher than normal! ID numbers: 2232694256, 8666946648, and 7873776667847. Congratulations! Please head to the side of your classrooms; the elders will direct you from there!" _

**_ [And yes, each of the numbers spells out their Minecraft Usernames.] _ **

Jacob breathed a small sigh of relief. The larger the number of people drawn from each house, the bigger the chance that the Libra House would have none at all. He glanced over at Geo again, the taller, brown-haired man bearing an  _ extreme  _ amount of fear on his face. Libra's were supposed to be social, fair-minded, diplomatic, and gracious. Jacob knew for a fact that neither he nor Geo was any of these. Hopefully, this meant that they would have a smaller chance at being picked, though he knew inside that it was all random. 

...wasn't it?

Jacob shook away the tinge of doubt in his mind. Of course, it was random. It had to be. They put everyone ages sixteen through twenty-five into a jar and they picked out names. There was no way it wasn't random - different Ruling Houses got different amounts of people each time they participated - note: was forced to contend - in the Survival Games. 

_ "From the Second Ruling House, Taurus, we have two contestants! ID numbers: 9662432536 and 8275! Please head to the doorway in your classroom, an Elder will meet you there!" _

** ~George's POV | August 3rd | Scorpio, Eighth Ruling House~ **

George's palms felt clammy. 

_ "From the Third Ruling House, Gemini, we also have two contestants! ID numbers: 83246625233 and 3257379663879! Congratulations, and please head to the door at the bottom of your classroom! An Elder will be waiting to escort you into our esteemed center Zodiac Dome, where the Survival Games will take place!" _

He was a horrible Scorpio. They should be brave. He should be like the rest of his star signs - brave, passionate, stubborn, and resourceful. He should be. He wasn't. Not by a long shot. 

_ "From the Fourth Ruling House, Cancer, we have another duo! Will ID numbers 42662739866 and 58788872 please make your way to the door on the side of their classroom?" _

Halfway to his house. He tried to tell himself that it wouldn't be  _ his  _ ID that was announced through the speaker - it  _ wouldn't _ . It would be some random kid, or kids, that he'd have to watch die. It  _ wouldn't  _ be him. No. 

He was shaking. He was afraid. He was praying that nobody was watching him. But glancing around, they weren't - they were listening for the next ID number to pop up over the announcements. 

_ "From the Fifth Ruling House, Leo, we have...WOW! An amazing  _ four  _ contestants! Congratulations to House Leo, we haven't seen numbers like this for nearly a century! Would ID numbers 263, 37326, 47426, and 46638463794847227 please make their way through the doorway?" _

George winced. He'd hate to be one of those four, now. He hoped they weren't friends. That would suck.

He was lucky he didn't have any friends.

_ "From the Sixth Ruling House, Virgo, we have...uh, oh, folks, we have our first  _ solo _ House team - though, technically, they're not teams. Anyway, would ID number 9452877668 head through the door to be escorted through?" _

** ~Mumbo | August 3rd | Sagittarius, Ninth Ruling House~ **

Mumbo absentmindedly played with a piece of metal and some wires in his hands, though he wished he'd bought some of the redstone batteries with him. Without that, his gadget was all but useless. Not that it really mattered right now. 

Fifteen contestants had been chosen. There were only nine left. Nine left, and six houses to go through. He had a small chance to get in. This was good...so far. 

_ "From the Seventh Ruling House, Libra, we have another (I'm sure) amazing two contestants! ID numbers 9355843355 and 774339, please head through the door." _

His fingers twitched, going to rub at his mustache irritably. He felt sick. He knew something was about to go terribly wrong. He could feel it.

" _ From the Eighth Ruling House, Scorpio, we have another solo contestant, though, folks, they're  _ all  _ solo, really. ID number 43674366836863, please report to the door at the front of your designated classroom." _

Mumbo was gripping the metal in his hand so tightly that it nearly sliced into his hand. He was shaking. He was terrified. He wasn't adventurous. He was scared...so scared. He wasn't extraverted like Sagittarius's were supposed to be. He wasn't feeling very optimistic, though usually, that was the only trait they displayed. 

_ "From the Ninth Ruling House, Sagittarius, we have... _ another  _ solo contestant! ID number 6862658626, would you please head to the front of your classroom?" _

** ~Toby's POV | August 3rd | Capricorn, Tenth Ruling House~ **

He was terrified. 

Zak and Iskall had told him that  _ everything would be okay _ .

But he could feel it.

He could  _ feel  _ it. 

He  _ knew _ . 

He was shaking. 

He was sixteen, and he was scared to be  _ chosen _ , but there were hundreds of kids - what were the chances - 

_ "From the Tenth Ruling House, Capricorn, we have a - oh, look! Three people! Congratulations to you guys!" _

"It's going to be okay," Toby heard Zak mutter.

It wasn't cold, but he was shaking. It wasn't warm, but he felt sweaty. Toby was lightheaded. He couldn't think straight. 

Three out of hundreds. No. It certainly wouldn't be him.

_ "Would ID numbers 14 - " _

Toby nearly screamed as Zak stiffened next to him. He didn't know many IDs besides his own, not even Iskall's, but 14 was so easy to remember...and so clearly Zak. 

The shorter black-haired boy climbed to his seat, his hands shaking slightly.

"It's gonna be okay," Iskall promised Zak under his breath, so low that Toby could barely hear him. "You're going to win, you can  _ do this _ \- "

_ " - 88226 - " _

His world halted. Zak spun on his heels, staring as Toby's number rang in the air. It couldn't have been more than milliseconds, but Toby felt as if he was falling as he stood up in the dark classroom. 

He stood up on shaky feet, feeling Zak staring at him.

No. No. This couldn't be happening.

He would be forced to kill his friend. Or his friend would kill him. They would both die in the end anyway. He couldn't do this. 

_ " - and 47525585 please head to the front of their classrooms?" _

Toby slapped a hand over his face, spinning to look at Iskall, who looked absolutely shocked. 

"No way," Zak whispered. 

Everyone was staring at them. Whispering. Waiting. For them to go to their  _ deaths _ . For them to walk the path that would lead them to blood and gore and certain death. 

Iskall adopted an angry look as he marched up, grabbing Toby's hand, the older leading him down the aisle, Zak following numbly behind.

_ This can't be happening _ , Toby thought glumly. 

They were going to die. They were all going to die. 

Together.

** ~Mega | August 3rd | Aquarius, Eleventh Ruling House~ **

_ "From the Eleventh House, we have another single contestant! ID number 6342787, please head to the front of your classroom and head through the door to the center Zodiac Dome!" _

He was numb. 

He stood up. 

He couldn't believe this.

But it had come true. 

He walked down the aisle, ignoring the looks on everyone's faces.

He was numb. He was numb and he wasn't scared; he wasn't terrified, he was in  _ disbelief _ , because how could this possibly be happening to him - he didn't talk, he didn't speak, he was  _ quiet _ and this is what became of it - 

No, he had to calm down.

He had to  _ calm  _ down.

"Well done, Mega!" his professor said, pointing towards a door that was now open. Waiting for him.

_ Well done _ . As if he had done something to  _ deserve  _ it. As if it were a position to be  _ earned _ , not a death sentence.

Mega would die, he knew it. He would die because he refused to talk, because he was quiet, because he wasn't particularly good at fighting, because he wasn't a survivor - he was just himself, and he didn't  _ have  _ any of the traits needed to participate in the Survival Games.

He walked through the door without looking back. It shut behind him. 

A man wearing a robe with his House colors - sky blue, with amethysts embroidered into it. In the center of his chest, the Aquarius sign -  ** ♒︎  ** \- was in stark white, brilliant, and just plain  _ ugly _ . 

"Congratulations...." the man hesitated, as if waiting for Mega to say his name.

Mega just stared at him.

"Okay, then," the man said, clearly unsettled. "If you'll, uh, just head this way, we'll get you with the other twenty-three contestants." 

** ~Phil's POV | August 3rd | Pisces, Twelfth Ruling House~ **

He tapped his fingers against the table. 

_ "Last but not least, we have the Twelfth Ruling House, Pisces. I'm sure you all have done the math - we have two contestants from the twelfth house!" _

"No need for them to sound so damn chipper," Nick muttered. 

Phil ignored him. 

He wished that the Survival Games had been pushed back eight months. He would be twenty-six, and too old.

But it wasn't like he'd be chosen today. There were two people, and there were hundreds in the room. He started as he realized he'd been zoning out.

_ " - numbers 741592 and - " _

Phil nearly fell out of his chair, horror dawning in his chest. That was  _ his  _ ID number.  _ His _ . He had been chosen to participate in the Survival Games. He would have to leave Nick behind - 

_ " - 727627, please head to the center Zodiac Dome. Thank you to all the participants, and have a great Survival Games!" _

Well. Guess he wasn't leaving Nick behind. 

He was laughing under his breath, and Nick was staring at him, but he didn't understand - he didn't  _ know _ why it was funny, because it  _ wasn't _ , but he was laughing anyway. 

"Come on, Phil," Nick murmured, leading the way down the aisle. People were staring.

"Congrats, boys!" their professor said with a wide smile.

It felt fake. Phil forced a smile back. "You're welcome! I'm so glad I chose to do this!"

Nick hit him in the chest, and he felt his breath leave him, and he stumbled through the door at his friend's heels, coughing and choking. 

"You two seem to know each other."

Phil looked up from his choking to see a woman with blonde hair dressed in sea green with moonstones embroidered into the collar of her robes. She had the Pisces sign in white on her chest -  ** ♓︎ ** \- and two small fish on the back when she pivoted.

"Yes, ma'am," Nick said, clearly uncomfortable.

"That's the worst," she said,  _ sounding  _ sympathetic, but Phil knew she was just pretending. 

Who else had an experience that they  _ and  _ their friends were both sent to participate in the Survival Games? That had to be a low chance. Phil was certain none of the other contestants knew the others that came from their House - and even if they did, low acquaintances. 

The woman smirked, brushing a strand of perfect hair out of her face. "Well, this years' Survival Games is bound to be interesting." 

Phil didn't know how to respond to that. If that was even meant to be directed at him. He traded a glance with the black-haired boy dressed in the normal sea-green shirt and pants. Nick shrugged, unable to answer. 

They followed the woman down the hallway until they came into a room. People were waiting for them. Thirty-three people were waiting for them.

Twenty-two contestants. Eleven of the Elders. Looking at them - because they were last. 

Young boys and girls destined to die against each other. To  _ kill  _ each other. 

But looking at them, Phil didn't know if he could do that. 


	5. Chapter 4

**~Tommy's POV | August 3rd | Aries, First Ruling House~**

He stared as everyone entered the room after himself, Stress, and Darryl. They weren't at all like he imagined. He'd thought that they'd be these crazy kids, but they were just like his little group. 

Dressed in their House colors - for him, it was red, but for others, it was all the colors of the rainbow - and they all looked uncomfortable. 

Some of them looked scared.

Except for the Gemini group. When the Third Ruling House walked in, they just looked _deadly_. The blonde-haired girl had a neutral look on her face that could stop a bullet, and the pink-haired man had a smirk on his face that chilled Tommy to the bone. 

When finally the final two walked in - Pisces, in their sea-green outfits - the Aries Elder spoke up.

"Contestants. In a weeks' time, you will all be released into the wilderness to participate in the Survival Games."

A bit of fear. Swallowing. Widening of eyes. 

"Of course," the Aries Elder continued, ignoring the reactions he got. "We can't continue to let you stay with your star signs. It's not interesting enough for the cameras when they go live if you all are in your groups." Tommy didn't like the grin that appeared on the Aries Elder's face.

He also noticed with a slight frown that everyone that had others in their group shifted slightly closer.

So. It appeared they weren't the only group of friends here. 

The tall brown-haired man with the guitar - Virgo - the (again) tall, mustached man who seemed to be tinkering with some metal - Sagittarius - and the shorter boy with the green scarf around his neck and vitiligo on his face - were the loners. Tommy wondered if he should make friends with them, just so they didn't kill him instantly.

"How about we play a name game?" the Aries Elder suggested with a wide smile that Tommy _really_ hated. "An icebreaker, of sorts. You guys can say your name, your age, and one of your talents." He nodded at Tommy.

Tommy's jaw dropped. "What?"

"Your _name_ , your _age_ , and one of your _talents_ ," the Aries Elder said, sounding annoyed. "Gods, someone with less _stupidity_ should have been chosen."

Tommy stared at him as the Elders left the room. "That was rude." He blinked when he saw everyone staring at him. "Oh, am I supposed to be doing something?"

"Yeah," Darryl told him. "Your name, age, and one of your talents, you muffin."

"Right." Tommy cleared his throat. "I'm Tommy, I'm sixteen, and my talent is pissing people off."

"That's not a talent," Stress told him, rolling her eyes, a smile tugging at the corner of her eyes.

"Yeah, well, nobody else can do it as well as I can, therefore it's a talent," he told her stubbornly, glad he could make her laugh. 

Darryl went next. "I'm Darryl, I'm nineteen, and I like baking."

"I'm Stress, I'm twenty-four, and I like making...herbalistic drinks to help with internal issues."

The fiery-red haired girl - who Tommy was slightly scared of - nodded at her as she looked around the circle. "I'm Cleo, I'm twenty-two, and I like making clay statues."

The black-haired boy next to her went next. "Hi, I'm Harvey, I'm nineteen, and I'm good at the UHC game." He grinned despite the situation. "If you look at the leaderboards cross-game, I'm TapL."

A bit down ways the circle, the blonde-haired, green-eyed boy gaped at him. "That's _you_? Damn, you're good." Harvey inclined his head. 

"I'm False," the scary-looking blonde-haired girl said. "I'm twenty-one. And I like sparring."

Yeah, she was going to win. She or the terrifying pink-haired boy. Who knew such emotionless eyes could make Tommy want to crawl into a hole and cry?

"I'm Techno," the pink-haired boy said after _False_ nudged him. "I'm twenty-one as well." There was a bit of silence. "And I learned from the best that you should never give away what you're good at."

A short black-haired boy snorted. "What are they going to do to Darryl?" he asked in a semi-high pitched voice that made Tommy think he hadn't gone through puberty. "Throw muffins at him?"

"That would be nutritious," Darryl noted, making about seven people in the room snort. Techno remained emotionless. "What! It would be!"

The brown-haired girl dressed in violet coughed to get everyone's attention. "I'm Hanna, I'm nineteen, and I like writing poems." She blushed under everyone's scrutiny. "They're not good poems."

"I'm Vurb, I'm twenty-two, and I like toes."

Awkward silence.

Hanna faked a smile. "He's joking."

"I'm really not," Vurb piped up.

"He's weird. Ignore him." 

"I'm Vincent," the next guy said, with a distinct and thick accent. "I'm seventeen."

"Eighteen," a short blonde-haired boy corrected next to him.

Vincent blushed, adjusting his black glasses. "Right. Today's my birthday."

"...happy birthday?" Stress offered up. 

Vincent smiled at her gratefully. "Thanks. I like baking as well - but bread, not muffins."

"Ooh!" Darryl said excitedly. "We can be _baking buddies_!"

"Yeah," Techno said in a monotone voice. "After the Survival Games, you two can go do that."

An awkward silence fell over the room as everyone remembered what would happen at the end of two weeks - and that every person in this room would be dead except one. 

"Shut up, Techno," False sniffed. 

"...I'm Grian," the short, sandy-haired boy said after a moment. "I'm eighteen, and I'm really good at those gliders that are in the gym. Elytras."

"You have the top record!" the tall mustached man said excitedly.

Grian nodded. "Yep." 

"I'm Scar," the brown-haired, green-eyed man next to Grian said. "I'm twenty-five, and I'm really good at caring for plants."

Tommy frowned.

"I'm - "

"When's your birthday, Scar?" he interrupted. 

Scar looked at him. "August nineteenth."

The realization filled the room. 

If the broadcasters had announced the names of each person in two and a half weeks, Scar wouldn't be eligible. 

**~Harvey's POV | August 3rd | Taurus, Second Ruling House~**

Harvey felt really bad for the person called Scar. The sandy-blonde haired boy named Grian next to him hugged the twenty-five year old. Obviously, they were friends. In fact, Harvey was pretty sure that everyone that wasn't a singlet were friends with their star sign mates.

"I'm Clay," the tall, blonde-haired green eyes man said after the awkwardness had disappeared. "I'm twenty, and I currently hold the world record for beating the game in Minecraft." He grinned. "Twenty-one minutes and ten seconds."

Jaws dropped. Minecraft was a pretty popular cross-dome video game to play around here, though they weren't allowed to share their real names or their IDs. 

"Dream?" the boy called Tommy said. 

Clay nodded. "Yep. That's me."

"Damn," Tommy muttered. "We have celebrities here."

Harvey noticed that the girl named False looked over at her friend, Techno. Clearly, he had someone about him that he was famous for, but his face remained impassive, refusing to give up any information. Harvey was frustrated. Usually, he could read people a _little_ bit. 

"I'm Wilbur," the loner guy from Virgo with the guitar over his back said. "I'm twenty-three, and I play music." He shifted on his feet, looking a tiny bit shy. 

The second loner, from Sagittarius, went next. "I'm Mumbo. I'm twenty, and I like making stuff with tech." Even as Harvey watched, Mumbo's hands were in motion, tinkering with a bit of metal that had some glowing red and green lights. He wondered what it was. Probably not a bomb; the Elders wouldn't have let him keep it. 

"I'm Zak," the short black-haired guy with the nice eyebrows said. "And I think this is stupid."

"What?" Cleo asked. 

Zak snorted. " _This_. All of this. The Houses. Survival Games. The whole pitting-literal-children-to-murder-each-other. The separation based on Star Signs."

"You can't say that!" Darryl said. 

"What are they going to do?" Zak snarled. "Kill me?"

He had a good point. But when Harvey was about to point out that there were far worse things than death, when the door slammed open to reveal the Capricorn Elder. 

Harvey was all ready for them to drag Zak away. 

They didn't.

"Why did the cameras shut off?!" the Capricorn Elder said, sounding dismayed. 

There was an awkward silence. Harvey glanced up at the camera that had been filming them. Instead of green light, it blinked red. 

"Perhaps something went wrong with the electronics," Mumbo suggested. Harvey narrowed his eyes at the taller man's hands - the little gadget he'd been tinkering with had vanished. 

The Capricorn Elder huffed and went over and smacked the camera. 

Harvey kept his eyes on Mumbo and noticed that his finger went into the pocket of his shirt - like a tic, but it _wasn't_ , it seemed to set up. 

The camera light flicked green, and the Capricorn Elder sighed with relief. He turned to Zak. "Your age and one of your talents were cut out. Please say it again."

He walked out.

"What the hell?" Vincent muttered. 

Harvey saw Mumbo pull the tiny device out of his pocket and flip a switch, and he saw the light on the camera turn red again. "Jammer," the mustache man said flippantly. "It'll look like it cut out." He flipped the switch, and the light on the camera turned green again.

Harvey had massive respect for the mustached man. 

Zak cleared his throat. "I'm Zak, I'm nineteen, and I'm good at trapping kids in boxes."

It was some inside joke that Harvey didn't understand, but he didn't really care much - anything was better than what Zak had so blatantly said before.

He did agree with the short black-haired boy, though. This _was_ stupid. Pitting some kids like the boy named Tommy, and the freckled brown-haired boy next to Zak - this was stupid. He didn't see the point. 

"I'm Toby," the freckled boy said. "I'm sixteen, and I'm clingy."

Harvey snorted. They were all revealing ridiculous facts about themself; nothing useful. Besides maybe False. But he could've guessed she was good at sparring. She was scary.

But still. Sixteen was too young. They were all too young. Tommy and Toby and...and the vitiligo boy - they were too young, and nobody got to choose this, _chose_ to die, and Toby didn't look much like a fighter...

"I'm Iskall," the last man said. "I'm twenty-two, and I have a bionic eye."

_These are some talents._

Now that Harvey looked closer, he saw that there was some wiring instead of veins in Iskall's left eye. He thought that was interesting - Iskall certainly hadn't been born like that, because children just weren't born like that.

There was a bit of silence as everyone looked over at the vitiligo boy.

Who stayed quiet.

"Okayyyy then," the black-haired boy with a bit of cloth wrapped around his head said. "I'm Nick, I'm nineteen, and I never learned how to read."

" _Excuse_ me?" Darryl asked. 

"It's a joke," the older, blonde-haired man said next to Nick. "An old one. 'I'm Jared, I'm nineteen, and I never learned how to read.' Remember that one?"

"No," Harvey said. 

Phil sighed. "Anyway, I'm Philza - you can call me Phil - I'm twenty-five, and I changed the dress code to allow bucket hats." He tapped his own green and white striped one. 

"That was _you_?" Wilbur piped up.

"Yup," Phil grinned proudly. 

"...now what do we do?" Harvey asked, looking around uncomfortably. "Now that most of us have gotten to know each other."

"Play duck duck goose?" Zak suggested. 

"Spin the bottle," Clay said.

A lot of resounding NO's filled the room, and Clay grinned to show he'd been joking.


	6. Chapter 5

**~Techno's POV | August 4th | Gemini, Third Ruling House~**

He'd been roomed with the annoying young boy called Tommy, and he _really_ hated it. 

The kid talked too much. About his hero. Which was Techno, but Tommy didn't know that. 

"Hey, have you ever heard of Technoblade?" was the first thing Tommy said when Techno awoke the next morning. 

"No," he grumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"How have you not heard of Technoblade?" Tommy demanded. Techno wondered how he could be so damn chipper at eight in the morning. "He's the _greatest_ Minecrafter _ever_!"

"I thought that was Dream."

"Yes, but Dream isn't my good friend."

"You're my good friend?" the words left Techno's mouth before he realized what he'd said.

"... _you're_ Technoblade?"

"Uhhh...."

"OH MY GOD, THAT'S SO COOL!" Tommy screeched, breaking all the sound barriers in the process and probably waking half a million skeletons from the dead. "I LOVE YOUR VIDEOS!"

"Yeah, well, I won't be uploading," techno said darkly.

Tommy's smile didn't falter. "You have a terrible upload schedule anyway." 

I mean, he wasn't wrong. Techno was too lazy to edit his VR footage to post videos for the rest of the Zodiacs to see. "Why did you say that you were friends with me?"

"I won a competition to participate in one of the VR championships like four months ago," Tommy explained. "Remember?"

Techno frowned. Then he remembered and was able to place Tommy's voice. "Oh, right - you were the guy that said _just killed a woman_ , _feeling good_. You know, there's a reason you weren't even allowed to participate again."

Tommy blushed. "I don't like being known for that."

"Too bad, nerd."

**~Hanna's POV | August 4th | Cancer, Fourth Ruling House~**

Instead of their usual House colors, the twenty-four contestants were given dark grey and blue shirts and pants to wear all day. Hanna was roomed with the Aries girl, Stress, who wasn't such a bad person and was amazingly nice and quiet, which Hanna didn't really understand.

It was almost like Stress was - tentatively - trying to be _friends_ with her. But that didn't make sense. If they were going to kill each other, or at least acknowledge that, on the field, they would _try_ to kill each other - why was Stress trying to make friends? So she could backstab Hanna?

But Hanna, even knowing the brown-haired girl named Stress for less than twenty-four hours, knew that Stress wasn't the kind of person to do that. 

She was floundering, trying to find answers, as they headed to the breakfast hall. She found it odd that they had one table, with room for twelve people on each side, and no horoscopes played over the announcements. 

Hanna sat down next to Vurb after grabbing a plate of eggs and a fork. She stabbed at it miserably, plopping ketchup to the side and dipping the eggs in it before chewing and swallowing. 

"You seem angry," Vurb told her amongst the quiet whispers - and awkward staring - of the dining table. People were trying to sit as far away as possible all while unable to be more than a few inches from their partners. 

"I'm not angry," she said through gritted teeth, glancing around for cameras. As far as she could see, there weren't any, but that didn't mean it was impossible. She hoped that Mumbo, the mustached man who was _joking around with_ Grian - they _definitely_ hadn't been friends before this - still had his technological thingy that turned off the cameras. That would be useful. 

"I don't know about that one," Vurb told her. 

Hanna slammed her fist on the table, rounding on her friend, and would've yelled at him - except someone was louder than her. 

" - just come back?" That was Darryl, someone from Stress's House. 

"No!" That was definitely Zak. The troublemaker from the day before. "I'm doing _much_ better ever since I moved out."

"You are _not_ doing much better!"

Vincent walked into the halls, muttering something under his breath as he plopped down, putting his forehead on the table. Everything was quiet as everyone stared at him. He raised his head. "They've been arguing _all night_."

" - are _not_ \- "

"I am doing _so_ much better!" Zak argued back. It was hard for Hanna to maintain a straight face when Darryl was at least three inches taller than the shorter boy. 

"No, you are not!"

Hanna giggled, and she heard someone else laugh as well. 

" _Your_ room doesn't have a doorbell!"

"That's not a doorbell."

"YES, IT IS!"

"No, it's a _button_."

"NO, IT'S NOT!"

"That's not how doorbells work, Zak." 

"IT'S 'CAUSE I'M THE OWNER! IT ONLY WORKS FOR ME!"

Darryl sounded like he was skeptical and laughing internally at the same time. "Oh, really?!"

"Yeah, because it knows me! FACE ID, BITCH!"

Hanna choked on her eggs.

**~Vincent's POV | August 4th | Leo, Fifth Ruling House~**

The walls weren't that thick, apparently. He'd heard them storm out - Nick had slept through the dead, but Vincent couldn't sleep at all. Then he'd heard a door slam, someone walk out, and he'd _finally_ been able to get a few hours of sleep - only to wake up to Darryl and Zak argue _again_ , Darryl telling Zak to get out of the hallway and come back into the room.

It was wholesome, but Vincent didn't appreciate wholesomeness unless he had a full eight hours of sleep.

He'd managed to get two. 

The only noise in the dining hall after Zak had sworn very loudly was the brown-haired girl who was choking on her eggs, the boy next to her - the one who liked toes - thumping her on the back to get her to stop choking.

"LANGUAGE!" Darryl shouted at Zak. "I CAN'T _BELIEVE YOU_ \- "

"Yeah, well - "

"Would both of you nerds shut the _hell up_ ," someone else said, and Vincent saw the pink-haired man enter the room, looking grumpy for some reason, the bright-eyed boy named Tommy coming in after him, grinning. "This really says a lot about our society."

Darryl looked properly abashed at Techno's words, but Zak just snorted and rolled his eyes. 

The other young boy, Toby, coughed loudly. "So...what's going to happen today?"

The red-haired girl groaned quietly. "Probably like survival skills or something so we don't all die by poisonous berries or something. They probably want to make it _interesting_." Her face was carefully neutral.

"Wonderful," Mumbo muttered. "Brilliant." 

"I'd rather die from nature than get stabbed to death," Stress said. 

Tommy snorted. "That's because you're a pacifist." 

Vincent was surprised when Stress didn't dissuade the young boy's words. A _pacifist_ \- in a setting where you had to kill in order to win?

"Are you really?" Hanna asked the girl.

"Yes," Stress said, a challenging note in her voice.

Hanna held up her hands in mock defeat. "No, that's fine. It's just, you know, with what's about to happen in six days..." her voice trailed off. 

"I'm aware," Stress said coolly. "That I'm not going to win. But I don't believe in violent disputes - for myself, at least. You guys can do whatever you want." 

There was silence. 

"In my opinion," Techno said in his monotone voice. "It is far braver to stick to your beliefs, even in the face of certain death, because then you truly believe in them, rather than throwing everything away just so you can live."

"Isn't that what you're supposed to do?" Vincent asked. "Try to survive?"

Techno stared at him for a second. "The law of survival of the fittest leads inevitably to the survival and predominance of the people who are effective in war and who love it because they are effective." 

"I have no idea what that means," Tommy said. 

"It means that violence always wins," Stress said quietly. "Because it is seen over peace, and it gets the job done the fastest."

**~Wilbur's POV | August 4th | Virgo, Sixth Ruling House~**

He didn't go to the dining hall in the morning, because he wasn't hungry. Besides, nobody would notice if he were missing anyway. The Elders had somehow allowed him to keep his guitar, so he'd just been singing the songs he'd created. Very cringy songs, but they'd been a hit among his peers. 

Based on the clock, it was nearly nine in the morning - he'd been up for two hours - before someone knocked on his door. 

"...uh, Wilbur?" 

He sighed and put down his guitar, standing up and walking over to the door. It was Tommy. "Hello, Tommy." 

"Heyyyyy Wilbur!" Of course, Tommy was like that - bright and cheerful and _loud_. 

"What do you want?" he sighed, itching to slam the door in the sixteen-year-old's face. 

"Uh," Tommy said. "You missed out on breakfast, dude."

"Yeah, I know."

Awkward silence.

"You missed out on Darryl and Zak arguing like a married couple." 

Wilbur had to admit he wanted to see something like that. Not that he was _ever_ going to admit it out loud. 

"Anyway," Tommy continued brightly. "We're doing one-on-one meetups with last time's Survival Games champion, and they want us all there." He shifted on his feet. "You weren't there." 

_He's like an annoying little brother_ , Wilbur thought, but shook that off instantly. No. He couldn't form attachments. Either he would be dead, or Tommy would be dead - the most likely case was that they both would be dead. "I'm coming."

He shut the door behind him. He'd hoped to walk in silence, but _silence_ apparently wasn't a word inside Tommy's vocabulary. 

"You have a guitar?" Tommy asked him.

He sighed. "Yeah." 

"Can you play it?"

"Well, since I have a guitar, I'd assume that I'd have the ability to use something that I've owned nearly my entire life." 

Tommy snorted. "Yeah, of course." 

Wilbur was surprised Tommy managed to stay quiet for the remainder of their journey. Perhaps Tommy wasn't just an annoying teenage boy who - who would die, but that was irrelevant. 

" _Finally_ ," the man with the white and green bucket hat groaned when Wilbur and Tommy came into the room. "They wouldn't let us start before you came."

Wilbur shrugged. "Wasn't my choice."

"See?" Tommy said, crossing his arms to the pink-haired man who was lounging across three chairs. "I _can_ do it."

"Don't worry, Tommy, I had absolute faith in you."

Wilbur frowned when he realized he recognized the voice to be one of the VR streamers for the game Minecraft; which he'd dipped his toes into a few more times than he liked to admit. But he wasn't going to admit that out loud. 

_"Stress, twenty-four, Aries, First Ruling House."_

The cool metallic voice that usually delivered the daily horoscopes made Wilbur jump a little as he sat down in the only available chair; the one next to Techno. 

The brown-haired girl stood up, looking slightly nervous as she walked through the door, the steel closing behind her. 

"What are we doing here, again?" Wilbur asked the room, most of whom were staring after the girl named Stress. 

"We're going meetups with the previous Survival Games winner!" a short, dirty-blonde hair boy said, looking up from his quiet conversation with the one that had blocked the cameras last night; Mumbo. "He - she - " He hesitated. " _They_ are going to give us tips."

"Bloody brilliant," Wilbur groaned.


	7. Chapter 6

**~Geo's POV | August 4th | Libra, Seventh Ruling House~**

He was number sixteen, after Jacob. None of the others had come out the way they'd come, so Geo was nervous. He knew they weren't dead, per se, but he had no idea if they were alive or not either.

If that made sense. 

So he entered the door, with a look back at the others - even if he was supposed to kill them, one day - or them, one day, he. He was pretty sure that they were friends, or acquaintances, at least. Geo was also pretty sure the only one truly capable of murdering without any withdrawals in the room was Techno and _maybe_ False. 

He was expecting something. Anything. Anything but what was inside the room the others had gone through.

It was a very comfortable looking room, with two blue beanbags sitting on the floor, a low table in between them. Geo spotted a camera in the top right corner, but the light was oddly blinking red, instead of the normal green.

There was a very pretty girl sitting on the couch, sipping what seemed to be water, but what Geo was _sure_ was not. She had long brown hair, black eyelashes, which he was sure were fake, and had a short skirt and a crop top shirt.

He stared at her, and she raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him. If anything, _he_ was unimpressed. _This_ was the person who had won the Survival Games a dozen years ago? She didn't even look _thirty_.

"That's the same face that everyone else gave me," the girl said in a surprisingly deep voice. She sipped on her 'water'. "Like I'm not capable of murder." She snorted. "That's the same face that Techno gave me, except it was more silent judgment."

"That's Techno for you," Geo sighed, sitting down cautiously on the seat. The more he stared at _her_ , the odder he felt. As if something was wrong - not _wrong_ , _wrong_ , like bad, but just...off. 

She smiled at him. "Hi, Geo. I'm F - Rose."

"F...Rose?"

Rose rolled her eyes. "It's...nothing. Forget it."

Geo frowned. "How do you know _my_ name?"

"I know all of your names," Rose said. "No, just kidding." She pulled out a piece of paper from beneath her, slightly crumpled. "I have a list of the order by House." 

Geo snorted.

**~George's POV | August 4th | Scorpio, Eighth Ruling House**

"Anyway," Rose sighed. "They're making me do this to give you _advice_." Her nose scrunched up. "Not that I really have any advice to give you."

"Nothing?" George teased. "Not even how to kill someone?"

It's supposed to be a light joke, but Rose's eyes flashed. "I didn't kill anyone."

He frowned. "What?"

"I can't fight," she admitted, clicking her nails against her glass. "I didn't kill anyone in the competition."

"...excuse me?" George asked. "You didn't kill anyone, and you _won_?"

She shrugged. "It's more complicated than that, I guess. I just hid and ran."

George swallowed. "So you're telling me that I can win without killing anyone?"

"No," Rose said sharply. "No, I'm not. You cannot win without death, George."

"But you did."

"No," she sighed. "No, I did not. I had a friend. Her name was Taylor." George didn't enjoy the past tense. "She was my roommate, from Aquarius. She was a kind, amazing person. _She_ was the fighter, not me. She killed the people that tried to kill us, and I stood there, useless as always." Rose looked angry, but not at George. At herself. "In the end, it was just us. Just us. I put up my hand and I told her to kill me. She took the dagger and stabbed it into her own heart."

George wondered if she'd told the story to all of the others before him. Probably. Rose seemed sad, yes, but she wasn't sobbing. It had probably been a rough twelve years for her. 

"I held her while she died," Rose whispered. "And then I was announced the Survival Games winner, and I was supposed to be _happy_ about that." She snorted. "So much death and destruction...for what? Entertainment?"

**~Mumbo's POV | August 4th | Sagittarius, Ninth Ruling House~**

Rose stared at him. He stared at Rose.

"You know," the girl said carefully, in her deep voice that sounded like a guy - not that Mumbo was going to point it out. "Most people told me to shut up and stop committing treason after I said that."

He shrugged, pointing to the small bulge in her skirt pocket. "You have a jammer in there, turning the camera off. And the Elders don't seem to care much."

Rose frowned at him. "How'd you know?"

He smirked at her and pulled out his own. "I used mine in the first room when we introduced ourselves."

"Ah," Rose nodded. "I was wondering why they didn't drag Mr. Short Boy away for committing treason." 

"You heard?"

"I have my own personal cameras," Rose smirked. "They're not so obvious, and I had a friend - " Her face dropped for a brief second. " - who was good with technology. They taught me how to get by simple jammers."

"Good thing the Star Sign Elders don't know how to do that," Mumbo said wryly.

Rose laughed. "Good thing indeed." She tilted her head at Mumbo. "Now, what was your question?"

He was silent for a brief moment. "Rose...is it okay that I don't want to kill people that I've just met?"

**~Zak's POV | August 4th | Capricorn, Tenth Ruling House~**

Every time he closed his eyes, Darryl's face swam in front of him. Zak thought Darryl was cute when he was angry. He'd secretly enjoyed the argument they'd had in the hallway, though he'd been embarrassed everyone had seen it. The way Darryl huffed and straightened his glasses; the way his pretty green eyes - 

Wait, no. He didn't. He _couldn't_. 

Today was August fourth. He was best compatible with a Libra - not that he was interested in Jacob or Geo. He wasn't compatible with an _Aries_ , not now, not ever - plus Darryl was a _boy_.

Boys couldn't like boys.

Could they?

"You're thinking about him again, aren't you?" the girl named Rose asked quietly.

Zak startled. "Wh - what?"

"The Aries boy," Rose smirked. "You're thinking about him."

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said, feeling his cheeks go warm.

"Well, you get this dreamy look on your face - "

"Shut up, shut up, _shut up_ ," he hissed, waving his hands and glancing furtively towards the camera, praying they wouldn't come to take him away like they had the two girls that had been found kissing under the bleachers in the gym. 

"Don't worry, it's disabled," Rose said flippantly, tapping a small metal device inside her pocket. "Just like how Mumbo disabled it yesterday."

"How did you - nevermind," Zak sighed. "Also, I'm not in love with Darryl. He's a guy."

Rose raised an eyebrow. "So?"

"So...we can never procreate."

"What does that have to do with love?" Rose said, and Zak felt something pang in his heart as he considered her words. "What does procreation have _anything_ to do with love? You've never seen it done before, Zak, but love is love."

"Actually," he objected. "Two girls in my House kissed and got taken away."

Rose sighed. "And how did you feel about that?"

He frowned. "Angry, I guess."

"Why?"

"Because they couldn't kiss someone that they loved," Zak said slowly.

Rose raised an eyebrow at him.

"Oh," he said. "Oh."

"It's okay for guys to like guys," Rose said gently. Zak isn't so sure. It's just not something that's done. She smirks at him. "Besides, it's like you said earlier - _you're going to die anyway_ , right? Minus as well try it."

**~Mega's POV | August 4th | Aquarius, Eleventh Ruling House~**

"You're not actually mute, are you?" Rose said, narrowing her eyes at him, and taking a sip of her water-that-wasn't-water. 

He crossed his arms and remained silent. This was stupid. This was _really_ stupid. He didn't want to be here. He'd rather die than be here. He was going to die anyway, why couldn't he just do it now rather than listen to this girl who'd won the Survival Games twelve years ago?

Well, anything was better than being in a room with absolute _children_ . He sometimes hated being in the Eleventh House. Everyone was so _annoying_.

Okay, not really. But they ignored him, and he ignored them as well. Tommy and Toby were annoyingly loud, and he wished he could - 

No, he didn't envy them. He hated them. They were loud and annoying and having fun when they shouldn't be having fun. 

And Zak and Darryl - ugh. He hated how they would glance at each other when they thought nobody was looking. Idiots. What _idiots_ . Mega wasn't one to judge people, but love was _gross_. He'd thought when he was younger that he'd have to marry someone, and had been relieved to find that since he was partaking in the Survival Games - no being with girls! Yay!

I mean, sure, he'd die, but that was a minor side effect.

And sure, Rose was right, technically he _could_ talk, but talking meant that people would talk to _him_. When he was younger, his professors had tried to get him to talk. They'd always failed. 

"Okay, fine," Rose said brightly. "You don't have to talk, Mega."

He blinked at her when she said his name. He hadn't told her his name. Though he supposed that it was sort of her _job_ to know the twenty-four people - twenty-three of whom would die. He wondered why she was even bothering to be nice. Why would she want to be friends with them? With _him_? He wasn't a good person to be friends with. He didn't talk.

Rose whipped out a book from nowhere. "We can look at pictures!"

Mega rolled his eyes and leaned back in his seat as she opened the picture book to reveal a shaggy-haired boy with acne and a lopsided grin. He wondered who that was. Peering down at the caption, it read _Survival Games Champion!_ Perhaps it was from twenty-four years ago? 

No, no, he shouldn't care about this. But he couldn't look away, because that _boy_ looked so familiar. As if Mega had seen him, very recently...

**~Nick's POV | August 4th | Pisces, Twelfth Ruling House~**

He stared at the picture. Then back up to Rose. Then down to the picture. 

"Is that your brother?" he asked in disbelief. They looked similar - except Rose had long hair, and the boy in the picture had more acne and less cleavage. 

Rose smiled at him sadly, tapping it with her pink and blue cloud nails. "No, Nick. That's _me_."

He gaped at her. Then down to _him_. 

Wait.

"You're a _guy_?"

Rose snorted. "I'm pretty sure everyone except Mega has asked that - and that's because he's mute. No, I'm a _girl_. But I used to be a guy. This is me when I was fifteen - the day I turned fifteen, actually, around ten minutes before my name was announced on the speakers, and I was the only standing champion for my house, Taurus. I turned fifteen _that day_. If they had announced the names the _day_ before, I wouldn't have been able to enter."

He stared at her agape. "That's...really unfortunate."

"Isn't it?" she smiled sadly. "I guess, in a way. But I made friends along the way, and they all died too. But I have more freedom than most, I suppose. I don't even have to get married. And sure, the Elders hate what I've become - but I never felt comfortable in my body, and I do now, and they can _fuck the hell off_ , because I won their damn competition." Rose looked up at Nick, fire in her eyes. "And I'm going to give you the single piece of advice I gave everyone else. You don't want to do this. You've become friends with George and Clay, just a bit - just enough so you like them, you could picture yourself being friends with them - just enough so you know you couldn't kill them. And the _children_ \- Tommy, Toby...even Mega, in a way. You couldn't kill them."

"But I have to," Nick said softly. "They'd kill me."

"I don't think they would," Rose interjected. "I don't think anyone would."

"Not even Techno?"

"He has his weak points," Rose said. "And I don't think he could murder people that he considers his friends. Right now, we're _all_ on the same side here. Right now, we're one big family."

"But we're supposed to fight each other."

"Because the Star Sign Elders are pitting us against each other," Rose said furiously. " _I will not let this happen again_ . Not what happened to me. I've seen how Zak and Darryl stare at each other. I've seen the girls talk. I've seen you laugh and joke around - you aren't enemies. You are friends. _Stop letting people control your life_ \- and take control of destiny. The cards may not be in your favor, but it is your turn, Nick. Play your hand - for as Zak said, you are doomed to die anyway." 


	8. Chapter 7

**~Stress's POV | August 5th | Aries, First Ruling House~**

The clash of sticks was loud in her ears. They were practicing fighting. She could see it as she sat cross-legged in the corner of the room, sorting different herbs instead of learning how to hold a wooden sword that would one day become a metal sword - that would one day draw the blood of her enemies...

...of the people she'd come to call friends.

She'd roomed with Hanna, the nice brown-haired girl whose face was full of smiles, who was too nice and too kind and would die on the plains of the Survival Games. 

Stress mumbled her recited words under her breath, sorting poisonous plants - they were dried, of course, used as practice - and those that were edible, and others that were used in healing. 

What the loud blonde-haired boy had said the first day had been right - she _was_ a pacifist. She didn't want to be violent. There were other ways of fighting a battle. 

She knew she would die here, no matter how hard she trained. She knew it as she saw the blonde-haired girl, False, and the pink-haired boy, Techno, whirl around each other as neatly as the girls in her class danced - perhaps far more graceful than them. She would never be that good. 

As she looked around the room - at Darryl and Zak, the latter of which held the hand of the former as he walked him through how to hold a sword, a blush on his face - at Toby and Tommy, who pushed each other around and joked - and the mechanic named Mumbo and the trickster named Grian who'd pranked half the people here at breakfast by switching the salt and the sugar - at the sheer amount of _life_ that glowed in the room - she couldn't.

She wouldn't kill them.

They would kill her, most likely...maybe they had that in them. 

But she wouldn't lift a hand to end a life. 

She wouldn't use physical force to hurt someone. 

**~Cleo's POV | August 5th | Taurus, Second Ruling House~**

She pulled back the bow and aimed it at the target that was around thirty yards away, closing one of her eyes. Sure, she wasn't the _best_ at the bow - but she was terrible at sword fighting, so this was her best bet.

Cleo let it go, and let out a small sigh as it hit the ring outside the bullseye. Good, but not good enough.

She stared down at the arrow in the quiver attached to her waist. At the _arrows_ that were 'practice arrows' - but if were fired upon a person, would harm them as surely as a real arrow would.

She tried to imagine aiming at a person. At stalking them like she would a deer, at firing at them as surely as she would her prey. At seeing the spray of blood and bone and death - and realize that she'd taken a life.

She looked around the room at the people here. 

She couldn't imagine killing one.

She couldn't picture them dead on the ground, on the grass, with an arrow in their hearts, staring into nothingness, because of _her_.

She threw up in her mouth, dropping the bow, and slapping a hand over her lips. She would not be weak. She would be strong. She had to do this. To survive.

_But what's the point of showing off, when you're going to die anyway?_

In the corner of the room, away from the violence, the pacifist girl named Stress stared at her. There wasn't a judgment on her face...just understanding. And Cleo understood too. She couldn't kill them. 

It would change her as surely as it had Rose.

**~False's POV | August 5th | Gemini, Third Ruling House~**

False found that she quite liked the red-haired girl whom she'd roomed with for the past two nights. That it was hard to dislike _anyone_ in the room, not even the annoying sixteen-year-olds who were loud and interruptive. Because they were children trying to live their lives for the few remaining days that it truly belonged to them, and they were all fighting for a chance - but even as she sparred her familiar rounds with Techno, she tried to picture her sword as metal, as _actually_ taking a life, and she just...couldn't.

She had won many duels, and had even drawn a bit of blood, and left many bruises...but to kill? To kill, even in self-defense? To suck the joy and life out of a person with a single swing of a blade?

She knew that people thought she could. She maintained her strong front.

She wished that she could be like the girl in the corner, Stress, who sat there, without a weapon, touching different plants and putting them into three different groups, without care for training with weapons - because she didn't believe in weapons.

False did.

But murder was another thing entirely. 

**~Vurb's POV | August 5th | Cancer, Fourth Ruling House~**

Rose was pretty hot. And she'd used to be a guy? Damn. He'd suck those toes.

Wait, what?

**~Scar's POV | August 5th | Leo, Fifth Ruling House~**

He'd never been a fighter. Never. Anyone but him. Nobody could possibly be worse than him. _Ever_.

Except for maybe Stress - but he was pretty sure that if she were to ever lift a sword, she'd be better than him. 

He wandered over to her, ignoring the sword behind him. Huh. She's sorting plants. He pointed at one with red berries. "Bittersweet nightshade."

She looked up at him, smiling, as she put it into the pile with a plant that looked a lot like mistletoe and another one he didn't recognize. "Yes, it's poisonous. You know plants?"

"A bit," he shrugged, sitting down and picking up a fern leaf. "This helps with poison ivy stings."

Stress nodded, smiling, as she picked up a brown leaf-plant thing. "So does yellow dock." She took the fern leaf from his hand and put it into the pile labeled _healing_.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked. 

"Doing what?" she asked curiously, not looking at him as she sorted through more plants faster than he could get a good look at them. "Sorting plants?"

"No," he said. "Not fighting."

She looked up at him, her brown eyes full of sorrow. "It was my choice, Scar, not to fight. No matter what. I will not cause violence."

"Why not?" he asked curiously. "It's self-defense."

She gestures around the room with a bit of a ginkgo plant. "Look around you, Scar. Nobody wants to do this. Nobody wants to kill each other. The Elders are pitting us against each other. They are forcing our hand, and our hand can be to _end this_."

"You are speaking of treason."

Her eyes glittered. "Yes. Yes, I am. But is it not Rose who suggested it? Is it not Zak who pointed out that twenty-three of us die anyway? Wouldn't you rather die for a cause you know is worth fighting for - our _freedom_ \- then die attempting to kill, or run, from someone you used to call your friend?"

Scar had no words.

"Tell me, Scar," Stress said quietly. "If you meet me on the battlefield, could you end my life?"

He opened his mouth - but found he could not answer, not as he stared at someone he would indeed consider his friend. They've shared words, interests - know each other, now. 

"See?" Stress whispered. "We can't do this. It would break us, one by one."

**~Wilbur's POV | August 5th | Virgo, Sixth Ruling House~**

"So what've you been up to today?" Tommy asked him during their quiet hours after dinner, as Wilbur tuned his guitar.

"Crying, a little bit," he joked, as he finished tuning it up, and strumming it once. He saw the younger boy perk up at the musical tones. "I wrote a song." 

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Sing it," Tommy challenged him, his eyes glittering with interest. 

"No," Wilbur said instantly. Tommy's face fell. He thought about it, and realized - what harm would it cause? None, none at all. "Actually, do you want me to?"

Tommy turned away, back to Toby, who was reading a book and glancing up at them every so often. "No, no, I don't think I do."

Wilbur grinned. "No, it's too late, I'm doing it now."

"Oh, okay." As much as Tommy tried to act like he didn't care, he did. 

Wilbur saw the people in the room quiet down, but he didn't mind much. Toby lowered his book, still acting like he was reading it, but really not, his eyes not moving across the words. 

He cleared his throat. "It's, uh, called _Sweet Hibiscus Tea_." 

Nobody judged his song title. More people were watching him, nearly seventy-five percent. He tried not to let that get to him. 

_"Here's the thing I can't do anything right._

_Try as I absolutely totally might._

_The bones are melting, the skeleton is ash -_

_The clavicle detaches and falls with a deafening crash."_

People perk up at his lyrics, and Toby and Tommy are staring at him, wide-eyed. The room is dead silent as he strums a few notes on the guitar, the next verses flashing through his mind as he tries not to panic from the eyes that are watching him. 

_"And I'm not your protagonist_

_I'm not even my own_

_I don't know anything_

_I don't even know what I don't know_

_And if you look outside you’ll see disintegrating trees_

_The artificial way the sunlight bounces off the waxy leaves_

_My heart catches on every thorn_

_You’re already halfway out the door_

_And I’ve never looked so old_

_And I have never been so cold_

_And it is 85 degrees_

_I don’t know what I need."_

He's trying not to panic. Failing, his voice is shaking, but people look entranced, so he can't have done _too_ bad so far. 

_"There’s lukewarm herbal mango sweet hibiscus tea_

_On the hot garbage pile in which I fucking sleep,"_

He's pretty sure Darryl mouths _language_ at him, and people choke on the snacks they're eating when he swears - and loudly, brilliantly, at that. It's not soft at all. 

_The walls are empty, it’s so ugly_

_I could burn the whole place down_

_It wouldn’t catch ‘cause all the posters are on their_

_Way to my hometown."_

One last verse.

" _And I am not your protagonist_

_I'm not even my own_

_I don't know anything_

_I don't even know what I don't know_

_And if you look outside you’ll see disintegrating trees_

_The artificial way the sunlight bounces off the glitching leaves_

_My wet heart catches on every thorn_

_You’re already halfway out the door_

_And I’m so tiny and so old_

_And God it’s never been so cold_

_And it is 85 degrees_

_I don’t know what I need."_

He looked up. Stopped the guitar. Saw the amazed faces and blushed, his cheeks coloring.

Tommy clapped loudly, starting a round of applause that filled the room and echoed down the hallway.

Together, they clap.

Together. 


	9. Chapter 8

**~Jacob's POV | August 6th | Libra, Seventh Ruling House~**

He had roses - the Libra flower - in his hair and was wearing a blue - Libra's Spirit color - with sapphires - Libra's lucky gem - in a suit for an event that would be televised across all twelve Houses. Geo straightened his small rose flower crown as well, staring into the mirror as he straightened his tie. 

"I don't like this," the taller man grumbled. 

"You think I do?" Jacob shot back. He stared at himself in the mirror, rubbing his note when it itched him. He hated this even more than he'd hated getting beaten with a stick by the mute boy - whose name, he'd been told, was Mega - and was surprisingly adept with swords, though he was no Techno or False. 

"No," Geo sighed. "No, I don't think any of us like this."

**~George's POV | August 6th | Scorpio, Eighth Ruling House~**

Hibiscus flowers and a black suit and topazes. 

God, he hated all of this. 

He stalked out of the Scorpio official 'changing' room, nearly bumping into Darryl and Tommy. Stress was probably in the girl's changing room, but Darryl and Tommy were both wearing red suits with honeysuckle flower crowns, the latter looking farm more uncomfortable than the former. 

"These suck," George muttered.

"Agreed," Tommy said, sticking a finger between his neck and his collar. 

"I don't know, do I look okay?" Darryl asked nervously, looking at the nearest reflective surface - which happened to be a decorative metallic vase. 

"You look fine," George said.

"Aren't you, like, dating Zak or something?" Tommy said loudly.

Darryl's green eyes widened. "What? No! No, I'm not dating Zak. Why would I be dating Zak?"

George and Tommy exchanged a look. "Why not?"

"Because he's a boy!"

"So?" George said. "We're all going to die anyway. If you love him, you love him."

"I _don't_ like him like that!" Darryl said furiously, but his cheeks were tinged pink. 

"Okay, _Darryl_ ," Tommy said. "Whatever you say." 

"Are we talking about Darryl's boyfriend?" Techno said, strolling out of the Gemini changing room in his yellow suit and lily of the valley flower crown. 

"I don't have a boyfriend!"

"Sure," Techno deadpanned. "You guys are gross." He strolled right past them and towards the entrance to the fancy dining hall.

George rolled his eyes and ran over to Clay and Nick who were talking as they rounded the corner, the former of which was wearing gold and marigolds, the latter wearing sea green and bearing a crown of flower lilies. "Hey Clay! Hey Nick!"

"Hey, George," Clay said. "Think they're going to serve some apple and pear soup?"

"That sounds gross," Nick said, wrinkling his nose. 

"No, it's delicious!"

**~Mumbo's POV | August 6th | Sagittarius, Ninth Ruling House~**

"How can you be so _bad_ at mechanics?" he groaned, as he watched Grian break yet another one of his practice contraptions in an effort to learn how to build machines.

"Dude, you have a _talent_ for breaking these," Iskall snorted.

"Shut up," Grian whined. 

"Aren't you guys supposed to be in the banquet hall by now?" 

He turned to see False in a yellow dress, with lilies of the valleys in her hair. Her blue eyes were shining with silent mirth as she scanned the situation; no trace of the warrior he'd seen earlier there. "Uh, yeah..."

False snorted. "Don't worry, I understand. I don't want to be there either. From what Rose told me about this banquet, it'll mostly be asking about anybody that we hate." He shifted uncomfortably, as False glanced around. "Are there any cameras around?"

"No," he said, not even bothering to check; he already knew the faint humming that filled the air wasn't there. 

"Great," False said. She turned to go but looked over her shoulder one final time at the trio. "No matter how things seem, death is never the answer."

"What do you suppose that means?" Grian asked as she vanished around the corner.

Iskall looked a bit unsettled. "I would say, if it were anyone else, that she doesn't want to kill people. But she and Techno...I don't know, Grian."

The shorter man sighed. "I suppose it was too much to wish that she were a pacifist like Stress."

Mumbo laughed. "Oh, certainly not! But she meant something, that's for sure. Maybe she doesn't want to kill us."

"Good," Iskall muttered. "I don't think I could take her on a good day."

**~Toby's POV | August 6th | Capricorn, Tenth Ruling House~**

He batted the microphone away from his face. "No! I'm not friends with Tommy for _clout_ or _power_ ! He's my _friend_!"

"You wouldn't want to be friends with Tommy for clout and power," Techno muttered from his seat, shifting unconformably in his gold suit. 

The person holding the microphone, the televised show host, turned to the pink-haired man. "What did you say?"

"I said you wouldn't want to be friends with Tommy for clout and power."

"Hey!" Tommy said, and Toby grabbed his jacket and hauled him back into his seat before he could try to beat up Techno.

"So, Techno - would you say you hate Tommy?"

There was an awkward silence in the room as Tommy crossed his arms, huffing, everyone else just staring at Techno. 

"No, I don't hate Tommy."

"But you're not friends with him?"

"I don't believe in friendship."

"Friendship isn't just some religion, Techno," Tommy said, sounding annoyed. 

"It really is," Techno said coolly, more to the host than to the sixteen-year-old boy. "We tell ourselves it's real so the cogs of society can turn, but the only real thing in the world is power." 

Toby raised his eyebrows as False put a hand on Techno's shoulder. "He - "

"Power corrupts," Techno continued, all in the same, monotone, cool voice he'd used since the beginning. "And absolute power corrupts absolutely."

Toby had no idea what he'd just said, but it must've meant something because the television host jumped back, his eyes burning. "What is _that_ supposed to mean?"

The tension broke when Techno shot him a grin. "Don't give me a sword."

The host gave a laugh of relief, but the moment the cameras turned away from Techno, Toby saw the pink-haired man's face fall, his eyes _angry_ , but at what - Toby didn't know. Techno's fellow Gemini, False, whispered something in his ear, and he nodded in her direction as she smiled sadly and pulled away.

"What about you three?"

Toby rolled his eyes as she saw Vincent shove Zak and Darryl apart once more, the black-haired man snorting. "Oh, things are just _peachy_."

" - was right, and you were _wrong_!" Zak was muttering furiously.

"No, it's not like that!" Darryl shot back, his glasses slightly askew.

"You were trying to distract me so you could take my cake!"

"I don't even like cake, Zak."

"So?"

" _What do you mean, so_?" Darryl said in a near-growl. Toby shook his head at Zak's antics. He didn't argue like that with him or Iskall, that was for sure. "I didn't steal your cake!"

"Yes, you did!"

"Boys," the TV host said, growing a bit annoyed as Vincent flashed him a peace sign and got up, sitting down on the other side of Zak so he was no longer in the middle of them. "Boys - nevermind."

**~Mega's POV | August 6th | Aquarius, Eleventh Ruling House~**

Mega stared at the microphone in his face, then looked up at the irritating TV host, plastering an annoyed expression on his face. 

"He's mute," Jacob offered. 

"No, he's not," the host said, narrowing his eyes on Mega. "He can talk." 

Mega raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms across his sky blue suit, hating how it tugged at his armpits. 

"How do you feel about being one of two Star Signs with vitiligo?"

Mega stiffened, his hand going to the lighter splotches on his face. He really wanted to punch the TV host.

"Enough," Jacob snapped. 

The TV host turned to him, a malicious grin on his face. "What about you, Jacob? You're the other one, are you not?"

Mega's head whipped around to look at Jacob, and only then did he notice the slightly lighter shades around his eyes, giving him a raccoon-like look. Perhaps they did have a bit in common. 

"Enough," Jacob said, his hands clenched in fists. A tense silence filled the room. "Vitiligo isn't a problem, it's just someone you're born with, just like albinism, or green eyes."

"If you say so," the TV host said with a shrug. "But you should cover it up. It doesn't look professional."

"You know what's not professional?" Geo said, leaping to Jacob's defense. " _You_. Shut the hell up and stop bothering us on our life choices and our looks. We'll be dead by the end of next week, and you can move on to whatever sad sob story you want to film next."

Mega winced. 

"Turn off the cameras," the host said dangerously. "You _dare_ \- "

"I dare a lot of things," Geo said harshly. "You don't _get_ to bully my friends and get away with it."

The host sneered. "I can get you into a lot of trouble, _boy._ "

"Oh, yeah?" That was Zak speaking, looking up from his quiet argument with Darryl. "Whatcha gonna do - kill us?"

The host looked like he was about to explode with anger when the clicking of heels filled the room. Mega looked over to see Rose standing there, this time with pink hair he _knew_ was a wig, and chewing gum loudly. 

"Ah, Finn!" the TV host said, sounding relieved. "You know, these _children_ are a bunch of - "

"It's Rose, actually," she said coldly, her eyes flying across the tension in the room. 

"Whatever," the host sniffed. "A dozen years ago, _your_ fellow Star Sign champions - "

"Died." Rose cut across him. "You're dismissed, by the way."

"But - "

"I _said_ , you're _dismissed_."

**~Phil's POV | August 6th | Pisces, Twelfth Ruling House~**

He watched the host leave, and then Rose pulled out her jammer and clicked it once.

"You need to be more _careful_ , all of you," she hissed. "You are going to get yourselves killed." Zak opened his mouth, but Rose cut across him. "And don't you _dare_ say that you're just going to die anyway. There are far worst things than death in a dictatorship society." Phil saw Techno nod in agreement. "You will die for treasonous crimes, but you will be tortured for _years_ , and they will dig out every friend you've ever had, and they will kill them too." 

Phil glanced at Wilbur, who was sitting in front of him, and then at Techno and Tommy, who were on either side. Behind him, Nick shifted uncomfortably.

"Please try to be a little smarter when saying things openly against the government," Rose said. 

"What do you know of that?" Vurb yelled from his seat.

Rose stared at him with a small frown on her face, and then she sighed, seeming to de-age nearly a dozen years, to when she'd been fifteen. "Taylor was openly against the government. I was lying, earlier, when I said that she'd killed herself. There were poison berries, and we both were going to eat them at the same time - two champions, or none at all." 

Phil felt slightly sick, and he could see some horrified expressions on the faces of his...friends. Acquaintances. Fellow champions. Whatever they were. 

"They shot her," Rose said softly, more to the floor than any of the other twenty-four people in the room. "They shot her and not me, and she died in my arms, and they shot her and said that it was a random choice, but her death was meant as a warning to me, because I was always by her side, even though I never said anything openly." Rose looked up at them, fury in her eyes. "Don't get your friends killed when trying to rebel against a situation with the odds against you."


	10. Chapter 9

**~yDarryl's POV | August 7th | Aries, First Ruling House~**

"You will be split up into eight groups of three," the man who ran the trial room said, holding a list. "In your groups, one at a time, you will be put into the hologram trial room, where you will attempt to dodge holographic arrows and other...things as long as possible. Each time a teammate gets hit, you will lose a life. Lose three lives, and your team loses. The longest-lasting team wins."

Tommy's hand shot up, and Darryl sighed, glancing over at Zak. He wondered - and wished - to be placed with the short black-haired boy.

Because they were friends.

And he didn't harbor any feelings for friends, especially one of the same gender. That would be wrong. Even though it felt right. No, no, he was being delusional. He didn't like Zak like that. Not at all. 

"What do we get if we win?" Tommy asked. 

"Hopefully the ability to get young children to shut up," Techno muttered. Tommy glared at him.

The controller shrugged. "Everlasting respect." 

Tommy snorted. 

"In group number one - IDs number 83246625233, 9452877668, and 741592. Please step to the side." 

Darryl watched as Techno, Wilbur, and Phil all stepped to the side, given red vests. 

"Any specific team name?" the instructor asked them over his clipboard.

"Sleepy boys inc," Wilbur piped up.

"...why?" Techno muttered. "Why am I on a team full of _idiots_?" 

"Hey," Wilbur said. "You could be on a team with Tommy."

"Oh, yeah, good point."

**~Cleo's POV | August 7th | Taurus, Second Ruling House~**

This was like the announcements all over again. Calling out ID numbers instead of names - as if they were items to be placed with one another. The only good thing was that Cleo didn't really care who was on her team; she didn't hate anyone here, and knew that most of them would be better at dodging arrows - even illusion arrows - than her. 

"On team two - ID numbers 3257379663879, 7873776667847, and 9662432536!"

Cleo pursed her lips as she, Stress, and False all stepped forward. False winked at her, and Stress smiled at all of them, a bit of relief on her face. 

"Girl power!" False crowed. "Sorry, Hanna."

Hanna laughed from the crowd. "Eh, it's fine." 

"You're going _down_ , False!" Techno said from Sleepy Boys Incorporated. 

"No," False said. " _You're_ going down, Techno. We're going to beat you."

"If you wish to beat me, train for another thousand years."

"You say that every time." 

"And it's true every time."

"No, I beat you."

"By cheating."

"It's not _cheating_ if I'm using my surroundings." 

"Making me slip in soap is cheating." 

"It's not." 

Cleo snorted as she watched their back and forth exchange. She glanced around the room once more, at the people in it - at the groups slowly being separated into trios. Over the course of a week, they were all becoming close friends. 

This wasn't good. 

But she couldn't help it. None of them could help the friendships that were slowly forming; the easiness in which they could talk and communicate.

Two days. Two days left of this comradeship, and then they would have to split off and die. 

Cleo let out a breath. She'd think about that in two days. Right now, she needed to beat Techno's butt for False's sake. She forced a grin onto her face. 

"We're going to break your legs." 

**~Techno's POV | August 7th | Gemini, Third Ruling House~**

"And that leaves the final three to be in group twelve!"

Techno smirked as he watched Tommy, Toby, and Hanna get separated into the last group. His eyes went to the eight groups located around the training area - he knew the ones that would be harder to beat than most. False's group, of course, _Girl Power_ , or whatever they were named; the _Muffinheads_ , which contained Zak, Darryl, and Vincent, and the _Dream Team_ , which included Clay, Nick, and George. The _Architects_ would _maybe_ be a factor in this, but he wasn't really sure. He hadn't really watched Iskall spar, and he knew Mumbo was good with mechanisms, but that wouldn't help in this friendly competition. 

As for the rest of them - Tommy's group now had a name; the Inniters - what a stupid name - he could beat them easily.

He saw False smirking at him, and he rolled his eyes at her. 

"First up...Sleepy Boys Incorporated!"

Techno, Wilbur, and Phil walked into the makeshift arena. He rolled his shoulders, preparing for the arrows to fire as holographic images of people filled the other end. 

The glass door closed behind them, and he could feel the eyes of the twenty-one others watching him as the man stepped up to the closed control panel and pressed what he presumed was the start button. 

Techno rolled to the side, and he saw Wilbur and Phil do the same as arrows arced through the air, looking _very_ realistic - except when they hit the walls and the floor where he had been, they burst into holographic shards, proving to be mere illusions. 

He cursed when one of the lights flashed red, and Wilbur let out a shout. "What part of _don't_ get hit do you not understand?"

"I'm a _musician_!" Wilbur shouted back, sounding slightly out of breath. "What do you expect, a warrior?"

"Yes!"

**~Vurb's POV | August 7th | Cancer, Fourth Ruling House~**

Sleepy Boys Incorporated gets an astounding five minutes, twenty-one seconds before Phil gets hit with the third arrow - Wilbur twice; Techno none, as per usual. Girl Power goes next and comes out with five minutes _eighteen_ seconds, just three seconds under Sleepy Boys Incorporated.

As the timer runs on, the arrows start firing faster and faster, and soon enough they're curving to follow the person they're aiming at, and Vurb is astounded by both Techno and False's performances. They're able to leap and dodge and weave, and the other four look far clumsier compared to them. 

The Muffinheads go third and come out defeated at three minutes fourteen seconds, each of them having gotten hit once. Except Zak actually leaped in front of Darryl to get hit, even though it wouldn't have hurt Darryl - he still did it.

Ah, love. Vurb doesn't understand it. Toes are better. Toes are always better. 

The Architects go fourth and get three minutes six seconds. Vurb notices how Techno watches Grian, who has surprising adeptness that just might have to do with his height - he's the shortest one here, with Zak and Mega coming in at close second - for the guys, at least. In terms of the girls, Hanna and Stress are the shortest. 

The Dream Team is fifth. 

**~Clay's POV | August 7th | Leo, Fifth Ruling House~**

With all the friendly competition around - all the joking and laughter, it's easy to forget that in just a few days, or at least by August seventeenth, all of them but one will be dead. Looking around, Clay wondered if he could kill anyone in this room. 

Maybe Techno. Techno seems like a killable person. Though he doesn't think he has the capabilities. 

"SNAPMAP!" he shouted, as Nick groaned and one of the red bulbs flickered on.

"Call me Snapmap again and we're gonna have issues."

George shrieked girlishly as an arrow nearly hits him, and Clay glanced up at the timer again. Three minutes fifty-three seconds. They can do this. They can beat Sleepy Boys Incorporated. 

He ducked under an arrow, and nearly fell flat on his face as George fucking _moaned_. "What the fu - " 

Ah. Another lightbulb was red. Well, they're at four minutes forty-seven seconds. Just another thirty seconds or so and they can win. 

"Come on, come _on_ ," he muttered, pushing George away from an arrow that would've hit him, sending the shorter crashing to the floor. "Get up get up get up get up - "

He feels a tiny poking sensation hit his back and the loud buzzer sounds. But when he glances up at the timer - five minutes and twenty-one seconds. 

"YESSSSS!" he shouted, seeing Techno glare at him. "We tied you!" 

Nick and George high-five him. 

"Technically, we're _tied_ ," Techno deadpans. "You didn't win."

"Yeah, but you didn't either." 

**~Wilbur's POV | August 7th | Virgo, Sixth Ruling House~**

He couldn't believe that the Dream Team had tied with them. Techno was fuming quietly, muttering a bunch of quotes by some historical author, and saying _Blood for the blood God_ , whatever that meant. 

Wilbur was kind of sad that he'd been the one to get hit twice, but what he'd told Techno in the trial area was true - he _was_ a musician; he wasn't a fighter like Techno or False or maybe even Clay. He sang and he played his guitar, he didn't _fight to the death_. That wasn't something he did or ever wanted to.

Of course, he was being forced to now. 

He'd seen the polls on who the Star Signs thought would win. _Very_ far in first place was Techno, and second was False - and then Clay, and then Grian, surprisingly, for whatever reason. Though Wilbur had seen Techno watching Grian as he dodged the arrows far better than anyone had thought he would. But Wilbur was at the eighteenth place - and Stress was dead last, though he didn't think she cared so much. Tommy was twelfth, and Phil was ninth.

"I can't _believe them_ ," Phil muttered. "Getting the same time as us?"

Techno shook his head. "They're good," he grudgingly admitted. "Clay is...very good."

"That looked like it hurt you to say," Wilbur teased. 


	11. Chapter 10

**~Geo's POV | August 7th | Libra, Seventh Ruling House~**

"An astounding one minute seven seconds," Jacob muttered as they exited the hologram area. 

"Hey, blame Vurb," Geo complained. "He got hit three times."

"It's not my fault!" Vurb said.

"Yes, it is," Jacob and Geo said in unison. Not that they particularly cared. It wasn't like Geo had any chance of ever winning the Survival Games. 

"Why do you suppose they split us into teams?" he muttered to Jacob, who was leaning against the wall sipping water. "If we're not going to be teamed in the Survival Games."

He shrugged. "Increase the tensions, maybe," he offered up quietly, glancing around. Nobody was paying attention to them; more so to Mega, Scar, and Harvey, who were around forty-five minutes into their trial. "It would be boring if we all hated each other."

"Well, their plan is about to backfire, then," Geo said. "Because I think we like each other too much."

"Shh," Jacob hissed. "You can't let them hear you!"

Geo sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets as he glanced around the room once more. He saw Tommy pestering the illusion controller man, who looked seriously annoyed with him, and Wilbur was just standing next to the blonde-haired boy, smirking. For once, Geo was glad that Tommy was being annoying because he really didn't like anyone that wasn't one of the twenty-four Survival Games contestants. And Rose, of course. 

Harvey's group ended up with two minutes three seconds, and Geo muffled a snicker as the controller man shoved Tommy away - he had been trying to push buttons. 

Luckily, Tommy had to back away - or, rather, Hanna and Toby pulled him away, because it was his turn in the illusion-arrow-trial. 

**~George's POV | August 7th | Scorpio, Eighth Ruling House~**

He did not like the look the controller man was giving Toby and Tommy, both of whom were pushing each other and joking around and shoving each other as children would do. Clay, who stood near George, was watching them curiously, his eyes narrowed.

Because, technically, they _were_ children. Those two were sixteen, and Hanna was nineteen, and Mega was seventeen, and they were _all_ too young for this, and Nick and Darryl and Harvey and Grian and Zak were all nineteen as well.

"Something's wrong," Clay muttered, as the first archers shot, which the three dodged easily by diving to the side.

"What?" George asked him.

"Something's _wrong_ ," his friend insisted. 

George glanced over at Techno, who was frowning as well, staring at Tommy. He looked at the controller, who was grinning maliciously - he didn't _like_ that look, and he could see why Clay thought something was wrong. 

Something was very, very amiss. But nothing was wrong, not yet, not as the kids - that's what they were; children - dodged the holographic arrows.

Then Hanna got hit, and she started screaming, and things went _very, very_ wrong. 

Because instead of light blinking red, instead of the arrow shattering against her - no, it _wasn't_ holographic, it was a real arrow, it wasn't a damn illusion, and then Hanna was falling, and blood was spraying across the padded room, and she had an arrow in her side, and Tommy was shouting, and Toby was screaming, and there was movement as Tommy leaped towards the door - 

_But it wouldn't open_.

Tommy ran back to Hanna, hauling her up, and he was scared and wide-eyed and George banged against the glass, but it wouldn't do anything, and Tommy was dragging Hanna away, and Toby was still running, trying to escape the arrows that were thunking against the wall - because they were real and tangible and they could very easily kill whoever they hit.

"OPEN THE DOOR!" Techno shouted towards the controller, and the man in question wasn't paying attention, and George realized he'd done that on _purpose_ because he was pressing buttons and he had a horrible grin on his face, and Hanna was crying loudly, and then...and then Toby got hit and things went to shit. 

False grabbed an ax, and Techno grabbed a sword, and then she was hitting it against the glass of the room where the three were trapped in, and Toby _wasn't moving_ , and Hanna was shuddering, and she looked ready to faint, and there was blood _everywhere_ , and Geroge saw exactly when the controller turned up the level, and arrows started shooting _everywhere_ , and they were going to die - 

The glass cracked but didn't shatter. They were all hitting it, trying to knock it down, but it wasn't fast enough. Nothing they were doing was fast enough to save them.

"HANNA!" Stress shrieked. 

Hanna looked up, her eyes wide, her mouth open, but she was on her knees and she couldn't dodge as an arrow arced towards her head -

Tommy moved. George saw it come, saw it happen, saw the sixteen-year-old move in front of the arrow's path, saw it hit him, saw him _fall_. Blood on the ground like water. In between the seams of the hologram room. Everywhere. 

Hanna was screaming, crawling forward to hover over Tommy, who wasn't moving - and Toby wasn't either, and the girl looked _terrified_ as she threw herself to the side to dodge another arrow, her hand going to her wound as she pulled it out with a spurt of blood and a shriek that shattered the stars.

**~Mumbo's POV | August 7th | Sagittarius, Ninth Ruling House~**

The background noise had faded into a hum as he ran to the wall, tearing open an electronics box. Hundreds of tiny wires; red and blue and yellow and green - he didn't know which one would stop the arrows firing and which one would make them fire faster - 

Someone shoved him aside, and Grian was there, and he reached a hand in and pulled out _all_ the wires - and somehow, didn't get electrocuted. The ceiling lights flickered, and Mumbo turned in time to see Hanna tug the arrow out of her side with a shriek of pain - but the arrows stopped firing, and he and Grian collapsed against the walls in relief.

The shattering of glass and Techno was hauling out the controller, his sword pointed at his throat, and Mumbo was glad that that angry look wasn't directed at him - because that was very scary, blimey. 

Another shattering of glass and False managed to break through into the room where the three figures were - none of them were moving anymore, and Mumbo hoped to _everything_ that they weren't dead. 

"What the hell are you doing?" Techno growled, stepping forward, and the controller was whimpering with the sword pointed at his throat. Stress had grabbed the first-aid kit off the shelf and was running through the crowd, but Mumbo felt entirely useless in this situation. 

Hanna was attempting to stand, but Vurb had pushed her back onto the ground, and Stress was by Toby's side wrapping something around his shoulder, where he'd gotten hit. There was a lot of red everywhere. Tommy wasn't moving, and Wilbur and Phil were next to him, doing something that Mumbo couldn't see, and False and Techno looked ready to murder the controller, their weapons lifted menacingly. 

What surprised him was that they'd all worked together to try to save people they'd met literally four days ago. That even though Mumbo didn't know Tommy that well, he cared about him enough to try to save him. It was the right thing to do. 

The door burst open, and Rose and four of the Star Sign Elders ran into the room. Safe. They were safe. Nobody was going to die.

 _Please don't die_.

**~Toby's POV | August 8th | Capricorn, Tenth Ruling House~**

He groaned as he opened his eyes. His shoulder hurt like _hell_ \- what had happened?

Oh, right, he'd gotten shot.

Instead of the dorm room, he was in a hospital room, lying on a cot with his arm in a sling and bandages over his shoulderblade. He raised his head up and sat Hanna sitting on a cot to his right, reading a book. He could see bandages peeking from under her shirt; mostly at her hip location. As he shifted, she looked up at him.

"You're awake!"

"I really wish I wasn't," he groaned, his left arm going to his other shoulder as it twinged in pain. Hanna winced sympathetically. 

"I can go get some painkillers," she said, moving to get out of bed.

"No, no," Toby said, not wanting to bother her.

"No, it's no trouble, it doesn't hurt," she said, gesturing to her own wound.

Toby opened his mouth to say no again, but a shatter of pain burst through him, beginning in his shoulder blade and rolling down his arm. he collapsed back on his bed, squeezing his eyes shut and breathing heavily until the pain subsided, and it was only a dull ache once more. 

"Yeah, I'm definitely going to get you some pain meds," Hanna decided, and he heard her stand up and walk towards the door. He wanted to tell her he was fine, but he was afraid to talk; afraid of the pain that might shake through him again.

"Hey, Toby?"

He turned his head to the right to see Tommy blearily blinking at him. Ah. He'd gotten shot too - and he looked the worst; his entire chest was covered in bandages and there was blood leaking through it already. "Yeah?"

"Does it hurt?"

Toby considered lying. He thought better of it. "Yeah. Yeah, it does."

His blonde-haired friend turned back to face the ceiling. "Me too, Toby. Me too."

Toby sighed miserably. He knew that he, Tommy, and Hanna would be healed by August tenth - when they were released into the arena - but some part of him wished that he'd gone into a coma that had lasted past the date. 

"Pog through the pain," he heard Tommy mutter. "Pog through the pain."

**~Mega's POV | August 8th | Aquarius, Eleventh Ruling House~**

Breakfast the next morning was...tense, to say the least. Hanna was there, looking sleep-deprived and drowsy from the pain medication, and Toby came in during the latter half of breakfast, but Tommy didn't make an appearance. Toby was quick to reassure the rest of them that he was just sleeping - he'd apparently torn his stitches by accident during the night and had to get them redone. Hanna was limping, and Stress and Vurb helped her walk, but Toby was a bit more stubborn and walked with a limp and his right arm in a sling. 

"What happened to that controller guy?" Hanna asked tersely as she shoveled some eggs into her mouth.

Mega was glad he didn't talk and she wasn't asking him, because everyone in the dining hall stilled, utensils coming almost to an abrupt halt. Toby looked up from eating his bacon, part of it in his mouth.

"...are you guys okay?"

Mega glanced at Techno, who was still eating his breakfast. In fact, _everyone_ was looking at Techno. False nudged the pink-haired man, and he looked up in annoyance.

"Techno?" Hanna asked slowly. "What happened to the guy that tried to kill us?"

Techno was silent for a second - considering his words, Mega realized. 

"I killed him."

**~Nick's POV | August 8th | Pisces, Twelfth Ruling House~**

Hanna's jaw dropped. "You _what_?"

"I killed him," Techno said simply, in the silence of the dining hall. 

"Why?" Toby asked.

"Because they were going to set him free," False burst out angrily, though there was a bit of objection on her face - she didn't comment on it. "They were going to set him free, when he'd nearly killed you guys - and _would have_ killed you guys, had Mumbo and Grian not pulled the wires and forced the building to go into emergency power mode, which, by the way, doesn't include the holographic archers that can damn well shoot _real arrows_."

Hanna was silent, contemplating. Nick saw Stress cast her a look, but the younger girl shrugged in response. 

"Good," Toby spat angrily, returning to his food. "He deserved it."

Pretty much everyone, including Nick, is surprised by this response. Toby always seemed sweet and shy and kind, but not when he snapped, apparently. 

"Nobody deserves death," Hanna said warningly to Toby.

"He nearly killed us!"

Hanna stood up in a flurry of anger and hate, and Nick realized tears were rolling down her face as she glared at them. "Maybe he should have," she said stiffly. "It would've saved the rest of you the trouble of hunting me down and killing me." Her eyes go to Techno. "Maybe it wouldn't have been a bother at all, for some of you."

Nick gawked after her as she stalked out of the room, and Toby let out a low whistle before returning back to his sausages. Techno looked a tiny bit unsettled as well, but gradually, all of them returned to eating their food; the mood a bit more subdued than it had been before. 

"You know, uncooked sausages remind me a lot of pickles," Toby said nonchalantly.

Nick choked on his cereal. " _Excuse_ me?"

"Yeah, they're both in jars and cooked in vinegar." 

"What?" Clay asked the sixteen-year-old, looking up from his crepes. 

"What do you mean, what?" Toby asked. 

" _Jars_?" Cleo choked out. "Hotdogs aren't in jars, idiot. Or in vinegar."

"No, I'm sure they are."

"They're really not."


	12. Chapter 11

**~Tommy's POV | August 8th | Aries, First Ruling House~**

Everything hurt. And by everything, specifically his stomach. The arrow had punctured some of his organs and he'd had to get eighteen stitches...which he then tore by accident and had to get redone.

Still. 

He was released around four in the afternoon - he'd _barely_ had breakfast and lunch; it had hurt to eat - _and_ he had to be in crutches because he'd fallen wrong after getting shot and had twisted his right ankle rather badly; so it was swollen and bruised and bleeding.

This sucked. This _seriously_ sucked.

But he would do it again in a heartbeat.

Tommy frowned as that thought flew across his mind. Would he? Would he do that again? He hadn't even realized what he'd done; because that arrow would have split Hanna's _brain_ in two - hadn't realized he was moving into its path. 

"Stupid fucking crutches," he groaned, leaning against the wall to take a breath of relief. He wasn't good at this. His arms burned from holding up his weight. 

"...Tommy?"

He felt a grin spread across his face. "Wilbur!"

"You look like shit, Tommy."

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Can you, like, help me or something? Because it's going to take forever to walk to the training room, and I really can't be bothered to walk there in five seconds increments."

Wilbur smiled. "Yeah - yeah, of course."

"Oh, thank goodness," he groaned, picking up his crutches and putting them into his left hand. Wilbur was _literally_ one of the only ones taller than him, besides Clay. The brown-haired man bent down and let Tommy put an arm around him. "Where are we going?"

"You didn't even know where you were _going_?"

"...no." 

**~Harvey's POV | August 8th | Taurus, Second Ruling House~**

Even at least six hours after breakfast, things were still tense. They were supposed to do another round of dodging arrows - this time they would've allowed weapons to take out the holographic archers - but after the incident the day prior...yeah, they weren't doing that. The broken glass _had_ been cleaned up, but the electrical engineering still had to be sorted out, thanks to Grian ripping the entire thing out. Not that anyone much minded, because it had at least shut off the main power. 

So instead Harvey was learning how to make a trap for an animal, to eat, and Jacob sat across from him, making his own shoddy version of the animal trap that the instructor was showing him, Harvey, Vurb, Zak, and Geo how to make. Over in the corner, Stress was trying - and succeeding - in lighting a fire, but Techno was having issues. 

Toby and Phil were looking at a bunch of edible and poisonous plants that were in a huge pile; two smaller piles with them sorted, arguing over one in particular with violet berries hanging off the branches. Even as Harvey watched, Stress leaned over, plucked it from their grip, and tossed it into the poisonous pile. She smirked at them and went back to blowing air on her tiny fire, Techno desperately trying to follow her lead.

Well. If there was one person that Harvey wanted on his side, even temporarily, it was her. She wouldn't kill him, and she had survival skills. According to the pain instructor, at least a quarter of their deaths will be nature-related in some way; by cold or poisonous berries or killer wasps - just kidding.

There weren't any killer wasps.

 _However_ , there were killer hummingbirds. Harvey did _not_ want to meet those; they sounded nasty. 

" - don't see why you have to be so _tall_ , Wilbur!"

"You're just short."

"I am _not_ short! I am taller than average!"

"Zak says that too."

Harvey looked over in time to see Tommy crash through the door and onto the floor, crutches and all. 

"WILBUR!"

**~Techno's POV | August 8th | Gemini, Third Ruling House~**

He was relieved to see that Tommy was still well enough to chase Wilbur around the room with his crutches; used like a bat. Techno sighed and stepped in between them, bringing Tommy to a sort of screeching halt from where he'd been hobbling around. 

"Oh. Hey, Techno. Can you, uh, move, please? There's someone I need to beat up." 

"No," Techno said firmly. "No more fighting."

"He _pushed_ me!"

"It was a horrible accident, Tommy," Wilbur said with a straight face from behind Techno.

"Why you son of a _bitch_ \- "

"Tommy," Techno said, louder. Tommy stopped. "I don't want you tearing open your stitches."

"You...don't?" Tommy asked, confused.

Techno stared at him. "No, of course, I don't. I doubt anyone in this room wants you to tear open your stitches."

"Why?"

It's a good question. A very good question. He didn't know why he doesn't want Tommy to tear open his stitches - they are supposed to be opponents, they are supposed to be adversaries. Techno realized that he cared for Tommy like he did an annoying little brother that wouldn't shut up...but a family nonetheless. He looked around the room, at the people staring, at the people listening - and realized that even with his brave front, he couldn't kill them. It would destroy him as much as it did Rose, and Rose hadn't even killed anyone. He had come to think of them as one big family - not necessarily _happy_ , but a family nonetheless. He tried to find an answer, but could not scrounge up the words to find one. 

Luckily, Rose saved him by opening the door and peeking in. "Can I speak to Tommy, Toby, and Hanna, please?"

Tommy threw him a look, but left - and Techno was glad to see him go because he could not find the words to describe his position - he did not know. False gave him a sympathetical look and then turned back to her makeshift water purifier, and Techno was still left staring at the door, wondering. Wondering what will happen in two days.

If he would win, or he would die.

**~Hanna's POV | August 8th | Cancer, Fourth Ruling House~**

"What happened yesterday was something that I can assure you won't happen again," Rose told them softly, in her rooms, where she'd promised to them that there were no cameras. "Your healing has been accelerated, and Toby and Tommy, you won't need your slings and crutches. Hanna and Toby, you two should be fine by tomorrow, and Tommy, you should be fine by the day after, _if_ you don't rip your stitches again."

"What if I do?" the blonde-haired boy asked.

"Then they'll send you onto the field with your guts hanging out," Rose said blithely. "You are not favored to win, Tommy - neither of you three are favored to win."

"Well, that's depressing," Toby said in a cheerful voice. "That sucks."

Tommy turned to stare at his friend. "You're a real idiot, you know that, Toby?"

"Yeah, I know."

Hanna rolled her eyes at their antics. "Is Techno in trouble?"

"Why would Techno be in trouble?" Tommy asked curiously. 

"He murdered the controller," Rose said. "And no. He's not. Because he and False are favored to win." She eyed them. "The Elders have looked the other way because of that - and because you three were injured in the fray."

Hanna's hand goes to the wound at her side, which is rapidly fading thanks to the accelerated healing. She swallowed, imagining someone besides a holographic archer on the other end of the bow. Like Nick, who used a bow, or Darryl, or one of the people that she'd like to call her friends. 

"Well, I already got shot once, right?" Tommy said with a bit of arrogance. "It can't hurt as much the second time."

"I guarantee you it is not a tolerance that you can overcome in just a few days," Rose said. "It hurts the fifteenth time you get shot, the same as it hurts the fifth." She raised her head and appraised the three of them. "Tommy. You pretend to be some big, strong, mean person, but it is okay to be selfless once in a while." Tommy's jaw dropped, and Hanna smiled at him sadly. "It is _okay_ to take an arrow for Hanna - nobody will judge you for saving your friends."

 _Friends_ , Hanna thought dimly. _Friends._ Is that what they were?

Would _friends_ kill each other on the battlefield?

Would she die by Tommy's hand, or someone else's?

It was only a matter of time. 

**~Grian's POV | August 9th | Leo, Fifth Ruling House~**

Nineteen. He was nineteen today. 

He was the first into the dining hall, because he hadn't slept the night before, wondering if this would be his last birthday - or his last day of not _running_ from the people he called friends, for tomorrow they'd be released into the arena to fight to the death. Last man standing.

He knew it wouldn't be him. 

He walked into the dining hall and he saw a cake with his name on it. Literally. And nineteen. With candles. 

"Dang it," he sighed. 

"Hey, dude - wait, is it your birthday?" 

Grian smiled sheepishly at Iskall. "I mean, I was hoping to keep it secret, but yeah. Yeah, it is."

"Woah, man, you're turning nineteen?" 

Grian facepalmed as Mumbo came in as well, looking trim and proper as usual. "Yeah."

"You know, with your height, I could've assumed you were turning sixteen," Tommy laughed as he hobbled into the room as well, sitting down. 

"If you had been my height, you wouldn't have gotten shot with an arrow," Grian shot back. 

"I'll have you know, I stepped in front of that arrow on purpose," Tommy said, looking affronted.

"Simp," Techno said in his monotone voice as he strolled into the dining hall, not even blinking an eye at the cake. "Oh, happy birthday, Grian."

"Thanks."

"I am _not_ a simp!" Tommy sounded horrified by the idea of that. 

"You kind of are, mate," Phil said blatantly. "But don't worry, that's fine."

Tommy groaned and sank lower in his chair. "I preferred being shot over being a simp."

"Well," Hanna said, as she too came into the room. " _I_ certainly am okay with the fact that you saved my life." She looked around the room. "Only _real_ heroes give up their well-being for the sake of others."

"Doesn't make it better," Tommy grunted.

"Tommy? A hero? Yeah, right," Techno snorted. 

"Wowwwww," Hanna replied. 

**~Wilbur's POV | August 9th | Virgo, Sixth Ruling House~**

He really enjoyed Grian's birthday cake, which was half chocolate and half vanilla. He took a slice right down the middle - a good taste of both worlds. It was a nice final reminder that tomorrow would probably mark the end of friendships and a beginning of a week that would end in blood and tears and death. Today had been their day off while the other hundreds of Star Signs were readied for their days of watching the Livestream, and instead of doing something productive, like learning how to light a fire - he was marginally good at that - telling what plants were poisonous - he was really shit at that - or learning how to use a weapon - he was decent, but in the bottom portion of the twenty-four contestants - they were playing a bunch of stupid party games.

Together. Laughing and giggling and pushing each other around, because they were _friends_ , not enemies, not yet - and in Wilbur's opinion, not _ever_ . He couldn't kill them. He knew that from the bottom of his stupid heart that he would never be able to end another person's life; not here in this room, because as Techno teased Tommy and Phil laughed, this felt more _home_ than anything ever had. 

He felt more at home here than he ever had in the Virgo Dome; than he had ever had with the other people - even in a weeks' time, he had made friends he wouldn't ever forget. 

And tomorrow...tomorrow would be a new day. A different day. He might die that day, or the day after...but this was the last good day left, and they all knew it, so they were having _fun_ instead of training for the stupid Survival Games that everyone in the room despised.

One final time before the blood was shed, the tears certain, and the death inevitable. 


	13. Chapter 12

**~Jacob's POV | August 9th | Libra, Seventh Ruling House~**

"Toes?" Vurb guessed.

Geo punched his teammates' shoulder. "No, you idiot. It's obviously frostbite; 'cause he mimicked shivering and is pointing to his foot."

Jacob facepalmed. His teammates were seriously horrible at charades. 

"Thirty seconds," Techno said rather loudly - and ominously. 

He lifted his foot up and mimed putting on a boot. He was cold and pointing to his food. It was _boots_. How could they not see that?

"...uh, socks?" Vurb guessed.

Jacob shook his head forcefully, putting his fingers close together to mimic the word _close_. He did the same movement again.

"Shoes?" Geo asked hopefully.

Jacob nodded and made the eh sign with his hand. Close. They were so close. _Please don't be stupid, please don't be stupid...figure the dang thing out!_

"Ten seconds."

"OOH!" Vurb shouted. "It's a foot fetish!"

Jacob's jaw dropped, and just about everyone in the room started laughing or snickering. Geo punched Vurb in the side again, the latter scowling at the former and rubbing at his now-forming bruise.

"Five...four...three..."

Geo's eyes brightened. "BOOTS!"

Jacob slammed his hand down on the buzzer seconds before Techno said the last number, and breathed a sigh of relief. " _Foot fetish_?" he burst out. "Really, Vurb?"

"I dunno, it was the first thing that came to mind."

Jacob sat down on the floor next to Jacob and Geo and watched as Techno added another point to their score, placing them in fifth out of eight teams. "I hate you guys."

**~George's POV | August 9th | Scorpio, Eighth Ruling House~**

While Clay was good at dodging arrows and fighting with a shield, it seemed he wasn't particularly good at charades.

"Throwing?" Nick guessed wildly.

Clay shook his head and pantomimed what seemed to be throwing a ball. "Baseball?" George asked. "Softball?"

Clay shook his head again, looking over at Techno, slightly desperate. He wrapped his arms around himself and started shaking slightly. 

"Cold?" Nick asked. 

"Shivering?" George added in afterthought.

"Twenty seconds," Techno said in that same bored tone that he'd been using the entire night. 

Clay shook his head _again_ , pantomimed the shivering, and then threw the ball. 

Nick and George looked at each other. 

"Uh..." George said, trailing off. "Frozen softball?"

"No, you moron," Nick snorted. 

"Ten seconds."

George threw up his hands. "I don't know! You're so bad at this, Clay!"

"Annnnd that's zero," Techno said, grinning slightly. Over in the corner, Grian whooped - the Architects were in first place, still. Not that the Dream Team would've been in first place even if they had gotten a point. They were _dead_ last.

"It was a snowball, you idiots," Clay groaned, slapping George on the head as he sat down in a huff. 

"You can swing a sword, but can't throw a snowball, huh?" Tommy teased the tall green-eyed boy. 

"Shut up," Clay grumbled. 

**~Mumbo's POV | August 9th | Sagittarius, Ninth Ruling House~**

"RAIN!" Grian shouted, and Mumbo nodded as he moved on to the next word, covering his eyes and pretending to stumble around.

"Darkness!" Iskall said next. "Blindfold? Blind!"

People in the room groaned as Mumbo nodded once more, and Techno rolled his eyes and added two scores to the board. "Thirty seconds."

He hesitated on the next one, but put his left arm up and pretended to play a violin.

"GUITAR!"

"No, you idiot," Wilbur called out. "That looks nothing like a guitar!"

Grian smirked at the brown-haired boy, sticking his tongue out. "Flute? Banjo? Recorder?"

"Violin," Iskall said. Mumbo nodded.

"Ten seconds."

Mumbo frowned at the next slip of paper Stress handed him. He curled up into a small ball - hard to do, of course, when you were one of the four tallest in the room - and bounced around.

"...two...one..."

"SLIME!" Iskall shouted moments before the timer hit zero.

Mumbo grinned and held up the paper. 

" _Really_?" False groaned. "I would've guessed bunny."

"That's why you're not winning, False," Techno remarked. 

Nick huffed. "How is one even marginally _good_ at charades? Either Mumbo's really good at acting, or you guys know abstract art."

"Abstract art," Grian and Iskall said in unison as they high-fived Mumbo. He looked over at the scoreboard. Well, they were eight points ahead of the second-place team - Girl Power. And Girl Power was at least five points ahead of the Muffinheads. Obviously, some were better than others.

He glanced over at his friends and smiled at the smiles on their faces. 

Happiness. Just for a bit. 

**~Zak's POV | August 9th | Capricorn, Ninth Ruling House~**

They're in third, but winning, for once, wasn't what he cared about. 

What he cared about was tomorrow. The bloodshed that will fall - the murder that will no doubt occur - and _his_ future. He looked over at Darryl, who was smiling innocently, as usual, cheering Tommy on, who was unrealizing that in just about half a day, they'd be in an arena trying to kill each other.

Zak tried to find the feelings that he felt for his... _friend_ , but it was like he was fumbling and searching and reaching for an answer that would never be found. he stared at Darryl, and he felt _something_ he couldn't describe with words - hope and joy and happiness whenever he was near Darryl. He couldn't get rid of the smile on his face whenever Darryl said something, and he couldn't resist moving closer, just to be with Darryl a bit more before the disaster that would surely come tomorrow. 

The overwhelming feelings that continued to serenade his mind - Darryl this, Darryl that - and he didn't mind that every waking thought was spent fighting his feelings - _no, I'm not in love with Darryl, he's just a good friend_.

But...but what if Rose had been right? What if he was in love with Darryl? 

Maybe they were just really good friends. 

Zak didn't feel like this for anyone else - and never had. His heart felt bright and full and _steady_ , and he wasn't floundering in the mess that was his life; not when Darryl was around. There was a goofy grin on his face, and he couldn't help but laugh when Darryl giggled, and smile when Darryl smiled.

What was _wrong_ with him?

Vincent kept _telling_ him that he was in love with Darryl, but Zak couldn't be, because Darryl was an Aries, and he wasn't compatible.

But...what did compatibility have to do with anything? If this was what being with Darryl was like - what would it be like if Darryl ended up liking him back? To have these _feelings_ of comfort and delight go both ways would be impeccable...but then again, what would happen if Darryl didn't like Zak the way he liked Darryl?

Would he go back to the life he'd known before, without this feeling called _love_? 

He could never forget this feeling. He would be in darkness without it. Techno had mentioned that _innocence was bliss_ , in one of his many quotes, but Zak hadn't truly understood it until now. 

He would never forget this feeling until his dying breath, he was sure of it. And he was so afraid that Darryl would walk away from him forever.

But if they were going to die anyway...he minus as well try. 

**~Mega's POV | August 9th | Aquarius, Eleventh Ruling House~**

They were such idiots. 

Anybody could see it - it was a dark room with just a few lights lighting up the stage where Charades were taking place. 

And yet Zak had a smile on his face that would have lit up the sun. He would sneak not-so-sneaky looks at Darryl, then look away - and then look away. They were so damn oblivious of each other that it hurt. 

Love was gross, but Mega would rather have them together than in thisannoying state. Ick. Luckily, tomorrow, he wouldn't have to deal with their shit.

Still, a part of him would miss this...comradeship. Friendship. Whatever it was. Nobody pushed him to talk - except maybe Zak and Tommy, but Techno had pulled him aside and told Mega that they were the annoying children of the room - and Jacob had even gotten him a whiteboard so he could communicate. Things were better here than they had ever, throughout his entire life, been in the Aquarius House. He didn't have to pretend to be analytical here, because nobody cared much about pretending to be someone they were not. He didn't want to be, nor liked pretending, being sincere - another supposed trait of Aquarius.

Even in the dim light of the stage, when he should have been watching Wilbur failing at portraying what was so obviously, to him, a torch, he was watching Zak and Darryl fall in love with each other.

He didn't know why, but he silently cheered them on, even though he would never say that aloud. It felt nice , rebelling against society - because Zak, a Capricorn, and Darryl, an Aries, weren't compatible in the ways of love. Plus, they were both boys. 

He hated the Zodiac leaders. It felt nice to be a revolutionist.

**~Phil's POV | August 9th | Pisces, Twelfth Ruling House~**

Wilbur snored away in the opposite bunk, his guitar leaning against the wall. Phil lay in his bed, unable to sleep. He couldn't stop thinking _._ About a day that was less than six hours away. He didn't understand how Wilbur could re-sing a few of his songs, put down a guitar he would never use again, and then just fall asleep.

He tried to calm his breathing to sleep. He tried. He _really_ tried. But he just couldn’t _._ Thoughts were flying a million miles an hour through his head. 

_What if I die?_

He rolls over to stare at his friend. 

_What if he kills me? What if I kill him_?

No, no, he wouldn't. He couldn't. It made him sick when he pictured Wilbur's death by his own hands - or Techno's, or Tommy's, or any singular one of the twenty-three others. In the beginning, he had thought Techno wouldn't care and would go on a killing rampage and murder them all, but now that he was closer to him, he couldn't really see it. Techno had _feelings_ , and he was very protective over his friends - if he had wanted to see Toby, Tommy, or Hanna dead, he would have let them die in that glass hologram room rather than kill the person that had tried to murder the teenagers. 

Phil was the oldest, or one of the oldest, at least. He couldn't imagine being nearly ten years older, in Tommy and Toby's cases, and having to fight to the death in an arena where everyone was older and wiser and generally just smarter than you. 

Not that it was hard _being_ smarter than Tommy - it was actually quite easy, in some ways, and Toby usually just followed Tommy around like a baby duck. 

It would have been different if they had chosen to compete.

But no - a raffle had decided their fate - and their fate was to die, save for the one person that survived and was left with ghosts - much like Rose, for the rest of her life.


	14. Chapter 13

****

**~Darryl's POV | August 10th | Ẩ̸̩̄̐̏̎́͝͝͠r̵̟̜̃̒̆̊̀̎͠í̴̡͎̪͚͓͔͔̎̀̈́̕̚ẽ̴̹̹̹̗̻̗̘̮̉͠s̵͉͍͉͈͕̾̿͌,̷͈̟͕͎̲͉̘̻̈́̉̈́͆́͠͠͝ ̵̙̫̤͈̘̣̺̅̽́͛̔̈̾͜͝F̴͓̺̠̟̜̑̋̃̉̀̇͠͝į̸̯̘͈̝͖͍͇̎̈̔́͒͌̕ṛ̶͇̫̻̅̓̈́̾̏͛̆͋́̄s̸͖͉̈̈̓̀̍̈́̉͆t̷̮̪͙̠̒͌̂̊ ̸̡̘̝͙̜͇̘͈̀̐͜ͅR̵̲̼͇͚͂ṷ̵̗͎̣̫̘̻͊̑̚l̷͉̾͂̈̑͋̃͝i̸̭̬̺̩̟̰͍̜͛͌̆̓͒̄́̋̾ñ̷̘͊͋͛̓̈́́̆̈g̴̨͚̞̣̣̯͍̅̃ ̸͈͈̗͓͙̜̯̙̟̯̑̀̒͋̇̊̅͘Ȟ̷̹̟͎̩̠̞̣̰͐͋̀́̇̊̄͠͝o̵̤̱̰͕͈̖͍̜͕̿͛̏̉͝ư̶̧̦͈̠̟̹̜͌́̉̌͜͜͠͠s̸̡͖̬̥̼͍̗̫̽͐̀e̴̘͕̳̋̀̇̈̒͌̈́~**

He stood in an arena with the sun to his left, the wind blowing softly at on his back. It was dead silent in the room as they all stared at the sky - at the counter that counted down their death. 

He saw Zak staring at him from five pedestals to his left, and Darryl lifted the corner of his mouth in response, saluting his...his...

What was Zak to him? A friend, certainly, but more. Deeper than friendship, more eternal than the full moon. He didn't know. He couldn't describe it. Besides, there were important things than thinking about Zak right now. 

Toby, the freckled sixteen-year-old boy, was on his right. The orange-haired girl, Cleo, was on his left. Toby threw him a small salute when he got caught staring, but Cleo seemed focused on the center prize - the weapons and the backpacks in the middle of the arena. Darryl narrowed his eyes on the chests, trying to find something to go for. There was a backpack not twenty paces from him, and a lake and a forest directly behind him. He could grab it, and head for safety...?

The Zodiac leaders had told them that there was a border that they could not cross at the edge of the dome and that cameras were everywhere. Darryl raised his hand to his forehead, where the Aries symbol, **♈︎** , lay. He saw Tommy and Stress with that sign on their foreheads as well - just to mark their Houses, to separate them from one another. 

But as Darryl glanced around, he could see people looking at each other, some waving, but none _excited_ , or happy, for this. At the nearest group of rocks, he could see a camera shifting around, looking at the contestants who would soon die. 

He didn't understand why the Zodiacs would do this. Why _anyone_ would want children to murder others. Why this was _fun_ and entertaining - these were lives taken away in a heartbeat; that would never again be alive - they were people who were forced to be nothing more than the animals from legend. Forced to kill for what - sport? To survive?

Anything was better than this.

The timer hit thirty seconds.

**~Harvey's POV | August 10th | T̸̯̮̩͚̰̹̊̀̎̅̇̽̎͆ͅa̶̤̋̌́͝ų̵̫͈͈̆́͋͝ŕ̸̛͕͔̬̳̣̜̦͉͕̞̋̐̈̇̽͘ừ̸̡̊̀͌̃̀͘š̶͕̣̬̈̉́ͅ,̵̰̰͍̰̼̟̼͚͔̳̋̈́́͠ ̷̦̦̖͕̜͜͠͝S̸̢̡̧̛̛̹̲̻̥̥͑e̸̙͓̥̖͍̤̅͆͛̄̈ć̴̼ơ̴͙͉͋̌̇ͅn̶̠̲̟̖̗̿̔͒̈́͗̓̋͝ḋ̸͇͈̘͓̅̇ ̸̢̛̳͚̳͓̘̗̔̿̂̋R̸̢̘̥̘̘͓̂͛̾̄͒̿̍̚ȗ̴̳͕͖͜ļ̸̙̜̠̓͗̓͋͂̏̿̐̽ǐ̸̤̦͍̦͚͇̳̲̌́̔͑͌n̷͚̗̬̑̈́̈́́̽̚͝g̴̘̦̥̦̦̫͋̔͒͒͘̕ ̸̱̺̱̱̽̽H̶̪͚͖̹̲̖͙̭̥͗̑̄͂͒ȯ̸̧̦͖̘̪̣̦̆̏̋̆̐͝ͅų̸̝̲͎̘̯̙͌̓́̀͒͋͠s̵̳̬̱̩̬̬͔̳͆̿̄͜ę̸̟͕̞̺̘̩̓́̊͊͋~**

Looking around him, he was relieved to see that the girl named Stress was on her left; her face calm and neutral, her arms clasped behind her back as if she had not a care in the world. Unlike the rest, she stood in a standing position; instead of one that was ready to bolt to the middle or away. 

Iskall was on his right - he was more questionable, but Harvey was still relieved that if someone were to attack him, it certainly wouldn't be coming from his left - Tommy was on Stress's left, and he didn't think the child would try to murder him straight up. False and Techno were pretty far away, so he was safe for now.

Which left his thoughts to drift elsewhere. 

He knew that they would all be dead - save one - by the end of seven days. He knew that he would likely be one of those nearly-two-dozen people destined to die in this arena. He knew that, and he'd accepted that.

That didn't make him any less scared. 

Who would kill him? He looked around. Would it be False or Techno - the two likely culprits? Would it be someone unsuspected? Would it be _Cleo_ , his fellow Taurus? 

Would dying hurt? 

**~False's POV | August 10th | G̵̡̛̥͎̮̿͒̈̌͊́é̵͕̮͓̣͖̹̭͆̏̓̂̋̍͒̕m̴̤̭̖̪͇̱̣̝͙̽͜ḯ̸̢̛̭̮͇̤̜̫̭̪̼̓͋̓̑n̴͍̬͍̲̩̮͒͛͌ḯ̵̥,̴̤͇̈́̓͊̉ ̴̧͔̻̦̲̥̱̃̉͗̏̈́́̄͘̚T̴̥̆̆̐h̵̲͓̠̝̲͎̳̲̞͋͑̓͒̋̒̉̿͛ͅi̷̪̯̙̠̗͆̌̄̈̓̔̉̂̾̐r̵̡͖̥̟͍̼͖͇̪̩̊̃̇͊̒̒̚ḓ̶̬͔̩̖̱̳͎̩̝̿̓̋̿͘̕ ̷̧̝͎̦̬̆̅͋̑̾̌͊̚͝R̵̼̻͉̍̀̃̅u̸͜͝l̸͙̥̻͍̙͓̻̱͛̇̚͝͝ͅḯ̷̡̭͔̠̗̜̮̙̥̹n̵̥̱̺̈́̽̒g̴̳͓̥̐͛̆̒̈ ̶̡̨̢̭̫̲́̽̋͗́̅́̑̇H̸̼̞̖̘̤̊̑͌̈́͒̈́̅͝o̷̧̳̰̯̰̳͍͚̒̉͘ǘ̵̗̿̉̈́s̵̞̠̖̬̺̟̫̬͔͒̂̆̐̆̀̒̑̕͜ḝ̴̘̆̓͘̕~**

She bounced on the balls of her heels as the timer slowly counted down from ten. She was ready. Ready. 

_**"...seven..."** _

Ready to what...kill?

 _Kill or be killed_. 

_**"...six..."** _

But as False glanced to her left and right, to Vincent and Mumbo, she didn't think that they'd kill her - not that they could, probably, but that was beside the point. She knew that Mumbo didn't even know how to hold a sword, and Vincent was only good at fighting when he got angry and screamed curse words.

So was it _really_ kill or be killed? Or was she just trying to tell herself that, knowing that blood would probably be shed by _her_ hands today? Was she trying to tell herself that every single one of these twenty-three other people would try to murder her at first sight?

No, they wouldn't. Maybe Techno could fool himself, but she couldn't. She couldn't stand there and tell herself that Stress could kill her. That Darryl would try to kill her. That Toby, or anyone of that kind, sweet, caliber would _ever_ try to kill someone that they knew. 

_**"...one."** _

**~Hanna's POV | August 10th | C̶̱̳̺̟̯͔̮̀̍͂̈͂͗̍͝a̷̧̼͚͖̬̹̦̮̣̕ͅn̵̮͉͚͎̝̬͚̤̒͌̚ć̷̬̻͍̳̈́e̴̡̝̱̭̦̺͚̿̒̌͠͝r̴̫͔̲͎͚̤͈͌̈́͛̈͋̑͘͝,̷̢̟̫̖̣̩̦̭̩̎̈́́̉̄͂̈̋̒͝ ̷͈̪̥̥̥̍F̸̥̖̰̟̙̮̫̈͛̾́̕o̶̙͚̙͚͚͒́̄̅̂̑̓̈́͠ü̷͚̏͌̈́̓̓̆̍r̵̞̜͚̬͎̼̟̿̈̾t̵̢̛̝͉͖̻̥͕̗̍́̃̅̈͂͒͝h̴̻͍͇̠̖̺̺̪͂̀̂ͅ ̶̜͚̬̈́R̸͕͙͓͍͚̥̱̆̽̈̏́̌̽͋̕͝ü̷̪͎̹͎̣̍́́̑̈́̌l̶̡̧̟̗̀̇̂͐̌̌̕͝͝͝ï̶͎̯̓͒͑̓̇̄̈́̄͠ǹ̸̟̞͈̠͐͊͜g̵̢̞͎̙̈͒ͅ ̵̼͙̣̖͎͚̐͛̒̐͜͝H̴̢̹̠̀̃̏͝ŏ̶̬̭͘u̸̢̬͛̍́͛̌̒̽̕ͅs̴̛̮̻̠͈͍͌͌͑̈́͛͑̚ē̷̛͓̒̂̇͗̽͑̎̾**

_**"...one."** _

She didn't even try to go to the center of the map.

Techno, on her left, rushed for the sword located not _ten_ paces away, and she had to get out of there, she had to _run_ \- but she was already moving forward, so she ran as fast as she could possibly go, adrenaline pumping through her blood as she ran across the center zone, and past the opposite layer of pedestals - northwest, towards a forest. 

She saw False pick up a sword and stalk towards where Techno had been, and she heard _metal against metal_ but she couldn't look back, because she was afraid that she would see people dead. That Stress or Cleo or Vurb or Techno would be _dead_ by someone she _knew_ , someone she _liked_. Others raced into the trees as well; nobody seemed to be really looking for a fight. She saw Harvey and veered away, and she could've sworn that he turned and ran in the opposite direction.

Occasionally, she saw cameras in the trees, even as the leaves and the twigs beat at her hair, cutting a scratch in her face. 

She needed something. Something.

There. A small chest against a tree - something useful, like the instructors had said there would be.

A dagger and what seemed to be a cooking pot with a glass lid. How useful. 

Still, everything was necessary, and Hanna didn't feel the need to dump anything just yet. She strapped the dagger to her belt, and she lifted up the pot and she walked on. 

She wasn't dead yet. 

**~Scar's POV | August 10th | L̶̡̮͙̲̼̜͕͎̙̮̓̈́̂̀̍̓̿e̶̢̡̜̲̻̺͊̃̿̀͘ǫ̸̹̳̹̰̫̹̦͉͍̃̾,̷̟̞̅̋ ̸͔͈̻̓̈̋́̓̕F̶͍̻͍͑̀͆͠í̴̦͚̼̮̩̰̈͆͊̾̈͜f̸̡̟̟̱̘̪͖̻̿͑̾̎̅̿͌͒t̶̻͍͉́̃̊̋̀͊̏̚͝͠h̴͎̿̉̈́̉̀ͅ ̷̢̲̩̋̽̃̆̆͛̓Ȑ̵͙̹̪̟̐̆̈̈́͘͜͝ͅͅu̵̡̜̜̭̼̫͕͔̾̄͌̕l̴͙͉͍̮̜̼͇͓̾̏į̶̮̭͕̔͗͗͛̕͠ṋ̸̢̠͉̄̀̋̀̃̎̿̕͠ǵ̴̨̛̭̫̼̘̹̜̈́̈́͛͒̌͆͘ ̵̛͈͕̠̙̻͍́̈́͒͘H̴̝̲͕̞͗̌́͒̄͐̈́o̸̢͚̦͆͜û̶̢̗̳̟̥͕̯̞͈̙̾̂́͆̓̈́̕͠͠s̶̟͚̖̦̹͇̹̞͋̿̈̒͘͠ͅȩ̵̰͂̍́̽̏̈~**

He couldn't help it.

What were the chances that Grian, his fellow House member, would be placed _directly_ next to him in the standings? 

So when Grian turned and ran north, Scar followed him through the woods, occasionally getting side-tracked and remarking on the man-made landscape around them that didn't look man-made at all - and looked a lot like the scenes from the movies. 

He followed the short blonde-haired boy into the trees, reaching down at the last second to grab a backpack, the contents of which he had no idea of. 

It was Grian, after all. He trusted Grian with his life; which might very well come into play right here, right _now_.

"Grian?" he asked softly, as he stepped into the clearing.

Grian whirled, his brown eyes wide as he stepped back, fear on his face as he held his hands up. "Scar, I - "

"I'm not going to kill you," Scar said, hanging his head. He wasn't strong enough. He hadn't even _considered_ killing his friend, whom he'd known for nearly six _years_ of his life and the person who had also gotten drawn for the raffle. He didn't _want_ to kill Grian. 

Grian eyed him and sighed. "Alright." He managed a smile at Scar. "I guess we'll go down together, then."

Scar nodded sharply. 

"What's in the pack?"

"To be honest, I have no idea."

_[Team 2: Created]_

_[Status: Alive]_

_[Members: Grian & Scar] _

**~Wilbur's POV | August 10th | V̵̖̣̼̱͔̟̰͎̏͒į̶̟̩̣̥̹̋̿̔͜͠͝r̵̢̡̝̹͂͆̈́̒̚͠g̶̢̖̗̱̯̻͛̈́̎̎͌͌͑͒͘͠ò̶̬̖̞̞̆̆̓͐̉̓̒̏̄,̷̼̪͈͕̝̮̀͜ ̵̜̼̤̯͉͌̽͌͝Ś̴̺̈́͑̿̀̐̔̎ï̸̡̙̮̳̥̠̙̝x̵͇̦̞͔͖̙̗̜̰̌̆̽̓͒̐̑͜t̵̡̡̹̬̤̭̻̳̻́̀̃̿͒̕h̵̺̀̔̓͐̐̀̓͘ ̸͍̜͖̠̩̳͈͔̋̋̍͜R̵̯͒́́̉̓͐̕̕͠ŭ̴̝̑̑̚͝l̶̞̝̳̥̳͚̍̇͋͂ĭ̶̢̼̱̙̺͇͊̒͆͌n̶̠͐̂̈̇̈͊̀̐͋̚g̵̛̦͙̖̓͊̎̔͛ ̷̹̹̼͚͕͍̹̣͆̊͌͝͠H̶̘̳̞͕̜͚̘̚ͅo̵̯͈̳̝͎̓͋́͜u̴̞̖̜̩͚͋͒̈̋͝s̸̜̄̈́͋̀̆͠͝e̶̛̗͛͌̾̆~**

_[Team 7: Created]_

_[Status: Alive]_

_[Members: Wilbur & Toby] _

"Come on, Toby," Wilbur said, as they plodded east, towards the border of the arena dome. He knew that they would be the safest there, no doubt. 

"My feet hurt," Toby complained. 

Wilbur sighed, running a hand through his unruly hair. He should have cut it before getting into this mess. Glancing up at the sun, he noticed that it was nearly six in the afternoon; the sun about to set. "We've got to find shelter before the wild animals come out."

"Wolves? You mean like wolves?"

"Oh, yes," Wilbur said, though he didn't actually know; he was just trying to get Toby to move faster in the woods. He had a bow and a pack of arrows, and Toby had an ax and a single water bottle, but other than that - they had _nothing_. They had to find a place to get situated before anything could possibly come out. They needed food. Water. Water came first - they would die of dehydration before they died from starvation. He really should have paid more attention to the instructors during survival lessons. "They will eat us alive."

"They _will_?" Toby's voice rose in a higher pitch at the end of his sentence. 

It was easy to forget that Toby was young, only sixteen and that he hadn't seen _life_. He hadn't _lived_ yet. And now he wasn't going to. He and Toby had run into another but had just stood there, staring stupidly at each other, waiting for Wilbur to draw an arrow - not that Wilbur was good at firing a bow, but he wasn't terrible, and that was what mattered - or for Toby to come rushing at him with his ax. Which he hadn't.

So they'd truced, unable to kill each other. Wilbur wondered what would happen if _everything_ ended up like that. If every person they came across would make the same decision, and they'd be one big happy family again until the Zodiac Elders murdered everyone for banding together. He almost preferred that decision. 

He saw Toby wave at the nearest camera and rolled his eyes internally. Toby was so _young_ , it was so _stupid_ for him to be here - for anyone to be here. 

Eventually, the forest thinned out, and Wilbur breathed a sigh of relief as a bunch of ruined stone building came into view, just on the edge of a cliff that dipped down into water that seemed to _end_ , suddenly, at an invisible barrier. 

It was dark, now, the sun had disappeared below the trees west of them, and he saw Toby collapse in the nearest building, resting his head against the walls.

"Come on, we still have to get food and water."

"Tomorrow," the boy groaned. 

"No, not tomorrow," Wilbur said. "Now. Otherwise, we might not have the effort in the morning to move." 

Toby groaned again.

"Fine, you stay here and light a fire, and I'll get us food."

Toby nodded blearily, already gathering some dried sticks in his arms and circling some stones around to make a base. 

Wilbur headed to the river he'd seen before, noticing another fire in the forest some ways off. He saw two figures around it, but didn't go any closer. He'd already gotten lucky with Toby - no need to push it. 

He groaned when he realized the river was _salty_ \- seriously, what kind of sick people made the water saltwater?

Oh, right, people who made children fight to the death for sport. 

Well, they'd have to deal with _that_ in the morning. For now...Wilbur spotted a camera blinking green in the darkness, and he saluted it as he grabbed a few edible looking berries off of a bush that he was sure he remembered Stress sorting into the edible pile. Thank goodness for her. 

"What, no water?" Toby asked. 

" _You_ try finding some in the darkness!" he responded irritably, popping a berry in his mouth. Oh, it was just blueberries. He waited for a second to see if he would drop dead but tossed Toby some when nothing happened. 

"Sorry, jeez."

"It's fine. I'm a bit jumpy."

"Wouldn't know why that would be."


	15. Chapter 14

**~Geo's POV | August 10th | L̴̬͈̈́̃͑͆̑̂́̊̕î̷̬̤͕͍̦̺̯̜͒̊̑͐́̚͘̚ͅb̴̧͔̜͉̏̄̃͐͘r̴̛̗̘̥̤̤̰̀́̿̑̒̾̇̋͝å̵̢̩̰͕̇͑̽͝͝,̷̛̯͚̰̝͙̹͗͠ ̶̻̟̣̩̼̫̮̬̀́̿̂̕͜͝S̴̗̦͇͒̑̀͌ͅe̶͚͚̟̜͓̲̅͑̓̇̾͋̀̚v̴̨͍͔̖̪͔̘͒̔̌ȩ̷͓͇͕̯̜͔̐̅̿͑̎͂͘ͅn̸̨̥͚̩͕͎̮̞̜̮͊̆ṯ̸̺͎̱̤̦͈̥̻͛̀͗́̾̇̓̃̕h̷̼̬̩͈̖͈͂̄͋̿͝ ̵̡̛̟̳͖̗̲̳͙̏̑͌͗̍R̴̰͚̥̳̻͌̽̄͐́͘͝ͅͅů̷̦͓̙͛͋̈͗́̚͘͜l̷̛̼̣͕̯͍̞̳̈́͒́̋̿̄̍͊ͅi̷̝̋̆̌ņ̴̧̛̜̘̠͎̯̄̔̓͌ͅg̵̡̢̨͎͈̦͗̿̓̉͑͆͠ ̶̙̟̈́̔͛̀͒́̃͒̎̿ͅH̵̛̛̖̗͎̲̦̭͙̩̘̙̒̐̇̿̔̄̅̕ö̴̢͓̤́̂̏̈́͂̈́̃͜u̷̦̻̍̽̆͊͐s̶̛̟̣̘̯̦͉͕̙̩̬͂̂̓̏͗̈́̈́̅ẽ̷̗̘͓̻̟͍̥~**

_[Team 12: Created]_

_[Status: Injured]_

_[Members: Geo]_

From his little crackling fire at the south, he could see another fire west, across the lake. He drank a sip of his water gratefully, glad that the bag he had picked up had contained water and a package of dried fruit. Tomorrow would be another day, however, and he wasn't dead yet.

He didn't want to go across to the other fire - it could be anyone, it could be someone that could kill him.

He wondered if anyone was dead yet. He couldn't fight very well; he had fallen into a thornbush and had massive scratches up his right arm, which he'd washed in the _saltwater_ lake. Seriously. Why couldn't it be freshwater? It wasn't even drinkable, and he didn't know how to change salted water into drinkable water!

He bet Jacob would know. 

He glanced up again at the flickering campfire way across the lake and jumped when he saw a figure sitting in front of it, facing him. It was outlined in black, so the only thing he could tell was that it was male. 

It waved at him tentatively, and Geo leaned against the ruined wall of the house he had found in relief. Okay, so he seemed friendly. The man across the lake wasn't going to murder him. That was good. He shivered and went back to huddle close to the fire as the chilly wind picked up; the sun finally set. 

Well. This was going to be a long night. 

**~George's POV | August 10th |** S̸̥̞͍̟̙̟̰̑̿̅͝͝ **ç̶̥͙̜̠̻̺̈́̅̊̌̑̀̿̿̕͠ö̴͖́̀̽͆́̊͐̿̕͝ŗ̶̨̪̲͋̓̍͆̑́p̶̠͎͉̘͍̮͖̈̌͂̔̔̔͝ͅį̴̯̥͚̮̖̮̝̖̩̇̾̈͠o̴̤̮̙͕͔̹̪̱̫̍̉̀̚,̷̺͇̗̯̔͐̐ ̸̨̯͚͖̞̜͖̲̭̅͗̔͆̕̕Ȩ̶̡͚̊̀̃̒͛̓̐̀͋i̵̡̤̣̻̻̥͊͛̄̀́̃̌ğ̶̰̫̩͛̊̀̍̅͜h̸̛͚͉͋̃̇̌̕̚t̸̲͈̰͊̉͐̂͛h̴̛̖̟͒ ̸̨̪̱̰̺̣̈͛͂̃͑͝͝R̶̯̩͚͉̯̤̾͋̉̍͘̕͝u̵͈̗̇̐̀̃̀̏̐͝͝͠ļ̶̨̨̯̻̦͙͎̪̎́͛̐̓̂̀̈́i̸̳̞͓͙̭̲͚̥̳͖̐̀̂̓̒̈́͠n̸̡̨̧̞̟̖̝̦̣̿̏̃̓g̷͈̪̫̦̩̹̀̉́͑̃̈̅͘̚͠ ̷̠̈́̾̽̈́̚H̶̜̤̻͑̈́̓͊͐̌͋͝ö̶̟͙̬̺͈̿ư̸̝͔̾̾̓̆̆̓s̵̼̩͚͙͎̲̪͖͉̘̑̒͝é̵̳̲̙͗̑́̏̓~**

_[Team 1: Created]_

_[Status: Partially Injured]_

_[Members: Clay, George, & Vincent] _

"OW!" George screamed, and Clay clapped a hand over his mouth, glaring at him.

"Be _quiet_!"

"It _hurts_ , Clay," George whined, as he lay against the cold rocks that the three had found one at a time - and then had decided to team. He didn't know what would happen if they became the last three standing, but he wasn't going to think about it.

"Yeah, that's probably what happens when you pour disinfectant into a wound," Clay said reproachfully. "Maybe you shouldn't have _gotten shot with an arrow_."

"It wasn't even my fault!" George cried out, causing Clay to slap him again. "Ow! Why would you do that?"

"I don't know, maybe so you don't draw people who might actually kill us to our little camp?" Clay said, raising an eyebrow as he tore part of his shirt off in a smooth motion and fastened it around George's arm.

"You didn't have to do that."

"You're my friend, George."

"Yeah, okay, whatever - George, please stop screaming," Vincent said rather loudly, as he walked around the walk with an armful of sticks to put into their dying fire - because neither of the three were good at making fires. "You're probably going to draw the people across the river."

"What?" Clay said sharply, standing up and reaching for his shield, which rested against the rock.

Vincent held up a hand. "There's at least four of them, and they don't seem to be doing anything, or looking. There are tents there that were there, to begin with, and they have a nice fire." He shrugged. "Now, _our_ fire, on the other hand, fucking sucks."

George grimaced at Vincent's strong wordage. "Well, perhaps we should have paid more attention during survival class."

"I _did_ pay attention!"

"You did not."

**~Mumbo's POV | August 10th | S̶̡̛̞̬͉̖̓ạ̶̫͖̞͎͔̻̈́̍̉̓̆̓ģ̴͖͔̺͎̃̆ͅį̴̞̺̐̎̓͛͛̊̾̓ẗ̶͇t̶̙͋̎͠â̴̗̻̯̰̖̈́̾͊́͑͛͌̔r̶̮̗̽̒̈́̀̅́͛ǐ̴̢̛̠͖̞̺̙̹͆͋̓̾͗͗͝ͅṵ̶̢̬̼̩̋͂͛̇̀̆s̴̨͙̩̦̞͉̜̖̆͑̚,̷̠͖͎̤̋̈́̽͒ ̸̢͍̪͓͕̟̐̏̈́̚͜͜͜͠N̷̛̬̹͒̓͑̉̊̎̚͠͠į̵̝͇̹̼̞͉̰̳̒n̵̢͇͈̦͇̣̝̯̓͛͊̓͜ͅt̸̢̯͓̻̀̀̌̈́̈́͒ͅh̴̨̧̹́̐̓̾̄̈́́͜͜ ̵̡͚̪͙̣́̇̈́R̶̺̟̄͜u̴̡̝̝̹̟͖̻͕̩͓͛̅͐͆̊̈́̇͘l̷̫͈̮̳̞͈̳̒̏̊̌̓̓̅i̸̡̪̣̻͍͑́n̵̳̐̽́̽́̉́ǧ̴̛͇̓̔̽̀ ̴͉̬̜̙̙̿̌̂̔͗͑̊̚H̵̢̦̪̻̟̣̉̽̏̉́͘͘ͅo̴̺̩̗͊͂̀͂͒͝͝ư̷̠̟͔͉͉̼̱͍̅̃͑͋͂̊̃͘͝ŝ̵̥͔̪͖̝͉͓̖̃̆̚ȩ̴̮̖̱̯̭̃̿͑̌̽̔̋͊̚~**

_[Team F̷̗̯̭̀̿́̀̒͛̾̂͝͝r̶̺̲̟̓ͅe̸̢̢̧͕̖̜̱̍͘è̴͙̝͎̱͓̣d̸͓͔̙̮̹̜̝̺̍o̷̥͐͗̿͆m̵̡̠̦̠̼̈́̾͗͜ ̸̲̮̗̭͍͈̦̝̔̾͑F̸̝͇͔̰̀͐i̴̡̖̬̘̣̒̈́̽̅͊̚͠g̸̺̜̖̐h̸̖̜͓̔͋t̸̥̭͉͚̬͉̝͊̕è̷̢̂ŗ̸͚̤̜̭͍̱͊̾͆̐̎͋͘͠͠s̶͕̘̥̊̈́͌̽̉̐̿͠͝: Created]_

_[Status: Alive]_

_[Members: Stress, Mumbo, & Hanna] _

He watched closely as Hanna lugged her pot that she'd found, now full of saltwater, to a spot in the middle of the fire, where Stress directed. 

"Can I have your cup?" the brown-haired girl asked.

Mumbo blinked and then handed over the metal cup that he'd found in his bag. "What do you need it for?"

Stress smiled at him as she took it, Hanna stepping back. Stress placed it face up in the pot, empty amidst the saltwater. She took the pot lid and placed it facedown so that the mountainous part of the lid pointed inwards, leaving a sort of valley. Mumbo frowned. "What does that do?"

"The water evaporates," Stress explained, stepping back with a huge smile on her face. "And then condenses, getting trapped by the lid, and then flowing down into the lowest point; and then dripping into the cup." She shrugged. "Should take about twenty minutes for one cup of water; hopefully we can fill up one of the canisters I found so we have fresh water." 

Mumbo gaped at her. "That's _brilliant_."

She smiled. "I may not be a fighter, but I do know some things."

"I am so glad we bumped into one another," Hanna mumbled, plopping down in front of one of the white tents they'd found; ragged and torn a bit, sure, but shelter enough. Across the river to the east, a smaller fire flickered, and Mumbo could've sworn he heard someone swear loudly, but that could've been a trick of the ear.

Stress whipped out her pack and begun muttering things as she sorted through leaves and grasses that Mumbo couldn't even _begin_ to identify. He wondered where Iskall and Grian were; if they had survived this far into the night. He couldn't think about that. No, no - they had to be alive. 

Yet by the end of the week, everyone except one would be dead. He looked at Hanna and Stress, wondering if the two girls who ere now talking quietly to one another would be the one to kill him. Certainly not Stress, and Hanna seemed sweet as well.

He bolted to his feet as a scream echoed across the trees.

**~Zak's POV | August 10th | Ç̸̘̬̙͈̹̣̲͔̞͛ą̶̧̯̦͚͕͎͈͕͇̀p̸̢̭̠̞̪̪̑͌͒͜r̸̰̯͈̭͒͂̋͂͝i̷̛̯͊́̓̅́c̶̣̗̰̖̲̦̮͒͒̓̊̈́͘o̵̢̢̦̮̟̥̐̈̒̽̆͒̓͠͝r̶̛̙̞̥͖̲͛̆̑͛͋͝ņ̷̰̞̼̰͊̃̋̓̆̓,̴̗̳̝̞̖̱̼̪̂ ̶̧͕̹̱͍̩͖͕͝Ț̸̮͓̺̯͕͈̼̉e̶̫̬͚̳͚̅̓n̵̨̛͈̠̈́́̽̊̑̕̚ț̷̛̼̪̊̒̇̀̎͛̚ĥ̵̞̚͠͝ ̸̡͂͂͊̏͝R̵̙̼̜̃̓̀̓̒͒̅͊́̋u̷̹̜͓̣͚̮͖̟͂̍͛l̷̼͎̤͕̀̐̀͗͑͊̚ͅí̵̼̘̲̭̼́̿̏̕͝n̴̝̈́͝g̵̨̧͉̟̣̲̣̎̅̏͒̌̽̐͘͝ ̴̛̞͇̻̭̰͋͛̃̑͒̎͆͘H̶̨͓̄͌ő̴̖u̶̞̹̙̩̲͚͛̀̄͝s̷̨̪̺̉͐͛ë̷̢̹̠̺͎̣̬̦́~**

_[Team 8: Created]_

_[Status: Alive]_

_[Members: Zak and Darryl]_

It was cold without a fire. He could barely see except for the beam of moonlight that shone in the entrance; also reflected in Darryl's brilliant green eyes as they huddled closer for warmth.

"Zak," Darryl said, after minutes of silence after they'd met and embraced and then found the cave to rest for the night. "Zak, what do you think of love matches?"

He stiffened against Darryl's side. "What?"

Darryl cleared his throat. "What do you think of love matches?"

Zak frowned. What was Darryl trying to say? "I think they're stupid."

"Really?"

"Really," he said firmly. "You should be able to love whoever you want to love."

"That's nice," Darryl said, with a bit of relief. "You have someone in mind when you get out of here?"

"No," Zak said after a moment.

"Oh," Darryl said, sounding disappointed and close to tears.

"No, it's just - " Zak said, floundering for the right words. What was he _supposed_ to say? Love confessions were only in books and movies! It was much harder in real life. 

"It's fine."

"No, Darryl," Zak said, catching Darryl's arm as the boy turned away from him. "No, it's just...I don't have someone in mind when I get out of here. But, if you must ask, I think I am in love with someone."

"Who? _Vincent_?" If you asked Zak, he would've thought Darryl sounded angry.

"WHAT? NO!"

"Then who?"

"I'm not telling you!"

"Zak, please!"

"No!"

"Please?"

"No!"

"Please with muffins on top?"

"No!"

Their conversation faltered into silence, and Zak saw a hopeful light reflected by the stars in Darryl's eyes. He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. What was he _supposed_ to say to Darryl?

Darryl huffed. "Fine, then. Just don't be mad if they kill you."

"It's a he," Zak corrected, freezing when he said those words. Oh, he was _so_ stupid. 

"Fine, don't be mad if _he_ kills you." Darryl didn't sound like he really cared about the gender. 

"You wouldn't kill me."

The green-eyed boy froze. "...what?"

Zak's mouth fell open as he realized what he said. "Wait, no, I, um..." He stood up, intending to leave the cave, even if he froze to death. "That's not - "

"Do you really mean that?"

He froze when he caught the meaning behind Darryl's words, spinning to face him. "...what?"

"Are you - do you - "

"Yeah," he said slowly. "Yeah, I think I am."

Even in the darkness of the cave, he saw Darryl smile. "I...think I am too, Zak."

They were inches apart, now. 

He couldn't help leaning closer. 

**~Mega's POV | August 10th | Ȃ̷̛̼͓͑̍̄̾̀̕͠ͅq̴͎͇͓̪̞̆̈́̔̏͋̿̊͘͠ų̶̧̗̱̪͍͎̦̰̏́͐a̵̼̪̝̔̀̔r̷͔͖̹͙̈̓̈́͂͘i̸̦͉̿̉̊̉͊͝u̶̡̮̺͕̙̘̥͚̔͐s̶̡͈̜̫͓̲̭͔̫̖̈̈,̷̠͉̣͇̹̬̟̱͌͑͝ͅ ̴̝̝̣̠̆̈́͠Ę̵̨̼̖̳̝̤̻̤̃̽͜ľ̸͕̮͎̻̠̻͉̓͛̈́͐̈́͂͛̋̆ë̵̡͚̼̹̠̱̟͖͉́̈͜v̴̧̲̙̼̥͖̭̯̏͗̓̾̊͘e̶̝̬̠̱͉̬̋̈͆n̷͇̹͎̰͊͐̓̓̑́̕͝ẗ̷̝́̏́́͛̈́̕͠h̷͖̤̝̋͋̇͝ ̵͎̪̓̇̽̆̑̅͛͝R̶̢̘͚̭͔̦̍̊̔̓̅ų̶͎̞̮̭͓͗̄̀l̴̨̪̩͕̊í̵̩͉̤̳̓̆n̶̢̬̲̹͙̒͆̂͆ͅg̶̛͔̙͇̘̙͊̽̎̈ ̶͚͇̋͐̉̄̐͘H̴̯̪̀̉̄̑́͊̈́͊͗͝ö̵̙͑̊͆̀͑̈̉̍͗u̶̼̔̈͊̾̽͝͠s̴̗͔̬̞̾͊͊̽͜ë̸̡̳̘̲̱̳̱̻̖͛̿͂̈͋͐̑̐͠ͅ~**

He screamed at the top of his lungs as he kicked away the _thing_ that was attacking him. It wasn't a _wolf_ \- it was too small to be a wolf, but it was a canine and had sharp pointy teeth that tore at his calves.

He hadn't spoken in a long time, and his scream gave out halfway through. Probably for the best. Nobody would come to finish him off. He would die from a small wolf. That would be more embarrassing. 

He kicked at it, making it yelp as he hit it in its snout, but its yellow eyes narrowed onto him as Mega whimpered, his throat hurting from the lack of talking and the screaming he'd just uttered. He glanced down at his left foot, but winced and looked away. It was a bloody mess. 

The wolf-thing snarled, circling him, and Mega turned, keeping his legs - his only weapons; he'd managed to grab a backpack full of medicine, which would be useful later...if he survived. He stiffened as he heard another low growl, and looked over his shoulder to face another canine thing. 

His foot came out in time to kick at the first one's flank again, and he winced in pain as its teeth tore at his foot, making him sob a bit more as the second one found the opportunity to latch onto his shoulder. 

He was going to _die_ by rabid mini-wolves. How embarrassing. 

And then something hurt his eyes, a brilliant light that made him reach up a hand to shield himself from the pain, and the jaws around his leg and shoulder vanished, and he heard the hurt _yips_ of the canine things as they ran away. 

"Mega?"

He opened his eyes to see Hanna standing there, a dagger in her hand. Mumbo stood at her side, a torch in his hand, looking a bit wide-eyed. 

"Are you - are you going to kill me?" he croaked out. Hanna's eyes widened, but he was going to die anyway, so it didn't matter if he talked or not. 

"No," said a voice that made him sag with relief because Stress wouldn't kill him. She wouldn't. His vision swirled as he lay down on the soft dirt, suddenly feeling tired. It would be okay if he rested...right?

" - don't fall asleep!"

But he was sleepy, so he was going to. He felt his eyes closing, no matter how hard he tried to listen to Stress's voice. 

_[Mega joined --- > Team F̷̗̯̭̀̿́̀̒͛̾̂͝͝r̶̺̲̟̓ͅe̸̢̢̧͕̖̜̱̍͘è̴͙̝͎̱͓̣d̸͓͔̙̮̹̜̝̺̍o̷̥͐͗̿͆m̵̡̠̦̠̼̈́̾͗͜ ̸̲̮̗̭͍͈̦̝̔̾͑F̸̝͇͔̰̀͐i̴̡̖̬̘̣̒̈́̽̅͊̚͠g̸̺̜̖̐h̸̖̜͓̔͋t̸̥̭͉͚̬͉̝͊̕è̷̢̂ŗ̸͚̤̜̭͍̱͊̾͆̐̎͋͘͠͠s̶͕̘̥̊̈́͌̽̉̐̿͠͝] _

**~Phil's POV | August 10th | P̴̨̗̫̻̝̹̯̑̈́̐͛̊͌͘͜͝͠i̸̛̠͎͖͕̿͌̓͌̐̊́͐s̷̥͚̻̤͔̻̪̺̾̉͗͛͑̍̅ç̷͔͕̞̯͆̚e̴̛̹ŝ̸̡̻̦͇̞̈́,̸̣̱͖͙͈̘̺̿̍̓́̊͐̕ ̵͙̄͊̅̿̈́̅̈́̾͘̚ͅT̵͔̣̥̗̲̀̃͆̇̽̊̈͊͝w̵̨̪̻̮̖͚̫̅̊͛̂̀̋̀̍͜e̶̢̢͔̳̊̇̉ͅl̵͙͍͉͋̽̎͐̀́̀͒͊͝f̵̰̭̦̳̪̖͙̈́̾͌̔̚t̶̥͇̼̥̫͍͍̱͔̃̉͐̒̽̓̒̚h̴͙̣́͂̓̐̾̌̕ ̵̢̺̇R̵̦̖̼̥͛͂̈̚ư̸͚̫̮̞͇͖͙͜͜l̴̨̛̦̫̝̹͖̇̈́i̶̧̼̼̣̣͚̋̈́̉͆͘̕n̸̞̦̒́̍ǵ̶͈̂̔̕ ̶̖̩̥̫̖̜͚͓̪̒͘ͅḦ̶̼̮̗̘̠͐o̸̡͍̹̩̫̺̻̹̳̣͆͐͛͝͝ų̵̜͓̱͗̅͂ŝ̴̢̘͚̳̜͍̣̀͋́ĕ̴̞͕͚̰̺̥̺̳̒̀͌͝~**

_[Team 6: Created]_

_[Status: Alive]_

_[Members: Phil]_

To the northwest, he heard someone scream.

To the southwest, a pack of wolves howled.

He huddled alone, in the forest, in between two branches of a tree he'd fastened a blanket through to create a sort of hammock. 

He _would_ survive. 

He would survive. 

He would win this, and he would go home, and he would talk to Rose and he would cry with her because he could imagine Wilbur and Tommy dead - and the last time he had seen Techno, he'd been locked in a battle at the center of the arena with False that had put every swordfight Phil had ever seen to shame. 

He wondered if they'd both survived that mess. Not likely. 

He swallowed thickly, turning around in the itchy wool. 

He would not die here. Not now. Not tonight. 

_End of Day 1_

_Deaths: None_

_Injured: Mega, Geo, & George _

_Cameras: Working_

_Teams: 13_

_Locations:_

__


	16. Chapter 15

**~Darryl's POV | August 11th | Team 8~**

He saw Zak's scared brown eyes staring into his, and he can't believe what he just said. 

There is silence in answer to that confession.

They are so close together that he can feel their breaths mixing in the cold night air - it's nearly midnight of the next day. He was waiting for a response to what he'd just said - that he loved Zak more than he did a friend. 

Zak leaned closer, and they're _millimeters_ apart now, and Darryl looked down into the shorter boy's eyes - and there was happiness there, _true_ happiness, and he felt giddy with joy as Zak returned his smile. 

"I - "

A beast snarled in the darkness, and Darryl yelped as red eyes glowed in the corner of the cave - they _weren't_ there before; they'd checked the cave thoroughly. 

It's a wolf, and a massive one too. And even as Darryl stared, wide-eyed, two more pairs of eyes opened. 

"Run," Zak croaked. 

They ran for the cave entrance, and Darryl heard the wolves' paws beat against the ground as they exited the cave, and Darryl turned north, but Zak turned _south_ , and he realized that too late - when he turned to follow his...whatever it didn't matter - three wolves were separating them, frothing and wide-eyed and snarling. 

"ZAK!" Darryl screamed. 

Two wolves bounded after the shorter boy, and the third came leaping at Darryl, so he turned and he _ran_ , and he was leaving Zak behind, but he _had to do it_ , and he was running, and he could _feel_ the wolf at his tail - not literally, but it was close enough. 

Cleo had been the one interested in wild animals, not him. Just like Stress had been obsessed with herbology, Cleo had been obsessed with lions and tigers and wolves and had even made little statues of them during her free time and had called it her _zoo_. But, I mean, everyone had their quirks - who was Darryl to judge?

He yelped and ran through the final trees - only to realize that he'd run too far north and that that was the _center_ right there, and he could see open packages, and a blonde-haired boy was sharpening a weapon - 

But the wolf was right on his tail, and he couldn't stop now. 

_[Zak left --- > Team 8] _

**~Cleo's POV | August 11th | Team 11~**

She woke up and saw the blue sky, and she knew she wasn't dead. 

She gave a call of joy into the early morning air, scrunching her nose when her stomach howled with hunger. Cleo uncapped her water bottle and drank a bit to quench her thirst, sighing as she finger-combed the twigs out of her hair and retied it using a torn bit of her shirt. She'd untied it because her hair was wavy and voluminous and crazy and it had been softer than the rocks and the dirt. Of course, now it was hardly recognizable now, but that wasn't important. 

Food was important. 

Cleo grabbed her backpack, which only had her water and a few bandages, and grabbed her walking stick/beating stick. She took a deep breath and stepped from the empty ruins of the houses. Another long day.

She needed to find food. 

But all she saw were the gleaming red eyes of a wolf ready to pounce. 

**~False's POV | August 11th | Team 10~**

The cut on her shoulder, the one Techno had given her before she had turned and fled southwest, was aching, and the fabric she'd tied tightly around it to ease the blood flow wasn't working as much as she wanted it to.

But she needed water because the only thing she had was a pack of dried apricots, and those didn't work to sate thirst very well. The lake next to her had been made of _saltwater_ \- she hadn't even known saltwater lakes were a _thing_. 

Well, it was all man-made. It would make sense that the stupid Zodiac Elders would purposely try to kill them all by dehydration. 

False froze as she stepped into the clearing in the woods, south of the base she had made, to see a red-haired girl with a staff-like stick in her hand. 

Cleo.

Cleo whirled, moving into a defensive position, that, in False's head, she was already devising a hundred tactics on how to get by.

"Are you going to kill me?" Cleo whispered. 

"No," False said calmly. And she wasn't. Even while fighting Techno she hadn't believed she could kill him. She'd left him with a cut across his cheek that would certainly scar if he survived. Hers was worse, but his was far more visible, and some part of her was proud, because Techno was the best warrior she'd ever known. 

Cleo's eyes narrowed; obviously, she didn't believe False one bit. Her eyes shifted to something by False's left, and the blonde-haired girl spun in time to see a _wolf_ staring at her, its teeth bared.

"What the - "

"Stand _down_ , Tortuga," Cleo commanded, and the wolf _walked away_.

False's jaw dropped. 

"Are you really not planning on killing me?"

False swallowed as she saw Cleo rub the wolf - Tortuga's - side, and it opened its mouth and panted like a _dog_. "I - no, I don't think I could."

"No, you definitely could." 

"Physically, maybe," False said, eyeing _Tortuga_. "I don't think I could bring myself to kill one of my friends."

She saw Cleo's face drop in relief, and the girl took one of her hands off her stick and held it out. "Team?"

False stepped forward and took it. "Team, until the end."

_[False left --- > Team 10] _

_[Team 10 has been disbanded]_

_[Cleo left --- > Team 11] _

_[Team 11 has been disbanded]_

_[Team Wolf: Created]_

_[Status: Alive]_

_[Members: False, Cleo, & (Tortuga?Wolf)] _

**~Vurb's POV | August 11th | Team Crafting Table~**

_[Vurb left --- > Team 9] _

_[Team 9 has been disbanded]_

_[Team Crafting Table: Created]_

_[Status: Heartbroken and injured]_

_[Members: Vurb & Zak] _

"Stupid, stupid wolves," he muttered. Zak had run into him while he'd just been finishing cooking a rabbit - yes, he'd somehow managed to catch one - with two large wolves on his tail. Vurb had managed to scare them off with a bit of fire, and they hadn't come back - one of them had run off southwest, and the other east - but Zak had been badly injured by a claw across his back. 

The boy in question moaned incoherently, remind Vurb that although they had survived the night, Zak might not survive the day if his wounds got infected. 

"Dammit, Zak," he said, standing up and taking the extra bandages to the shorter man and removing the old ones, wincing at the red stickiness that bled through the white fabric even as he placed the new ones on. He didn't know how to deal with this. Stress was more cut out for this - not because she was a girl, but because she was good with plant stuff. 

He took the old bandages, left Zak with a bit of water, just in case - he probably should go find more before they died of water starvation, or whatever it was called - and then took the bloody, nasty, gross bandages in his other hand and walked southwest to the nearest body of water. 

He knelt by the edge of the lake - it was saltwater, he'd tried it before - and watched as murky redness left the bandages. Vurb scrubbed them harder together in annoyance, watching as the red faded to a lighter shade, never fully disappearing. 

Well, they would have to do. 

As Vurb gathered them in his arms and moved to leave, he glanced across the lake, and saw a wolf staring at him - one of the wolves from last night, but it made no move to run around the lake. It looked more at ease, its tongue lolling out of the corner of its mouth.

Vurb waved and left. 

Not once did he think to abandon Zak. 

**~Grian's POV | August 11th | Team 2~**

He was so glad that Scar was with him. Sure, he'd been suspicious at first, but his House member had proved that he felt the same things that Grian had - that in all this mess, he still believed Grian to be his friend. That even though they were supposed to try to kill one another, they couldn't, wouldn't, _didn't_. 

The cameras he saw were blinking red, and he didn't know why. But that wasn't his issue, and he was glad he didn't have to perform chasing Scar in front of them so that they weren't suspicious. 

His head whipped up as he heard someone yell, faintly - but it was there.

"What was that?" Scar whispered.

"I don't know," Grian replied grimly. "But we're going to check it out."

"Okay," Scar said, reaching down to grab the spear they'd found while foraging. Grian clutched the dagger in his hand, nodding sharply - he'd expected Scar to disagree, but this had worked in his favor. 

They ran towards the center of the arena and burst out of the trees in time to see a wolf leap at a blonde-haired boy, Tommy, the other man, Darryl trying to stab on it and miss.

"OI!" Grian yelled, running as fast as he could towards the people he could very well call his friends. "GET OFF HIM!"

Surprisingly, the wolf listened to him, and turned, snarling. Grian backed up a bit from it as it prowled in a circle around him and Scar. 

It jumped away as an arrow thudded into the place where it had been seconds earlier. Whimpering, it took one last look at Grian and left, running back the way he'd come. 

"Ow," Tommy moaned, and Grian looked over to see him lift up his shirt to reveal a nasty looking scratch. "It _got_ me."

Darryl looked like he was about to cry. "I think Zak is dead. He got chased by two wolves and went south and I think he's _dead -_ "

Grian exchanged a look with Scar. "I'm sure he's fine. He's a very capable guy."

"He's really not," Techno said, stepping past Grian, who jumped. He hadn't' even _seen_ him. He was the one who'd shot at the wolf - he carried a bow in his hand. He rolled his eyes at Grian's antics, and made no move to attack them. "You okay, Tommy?"

"Mhm fine," Tommy grumbled, wincing. 

"No, you're not."

_[Grian has left --- > Team 2] _

_[Scar has left --- > Team 2] _

_[Team 2 has been disbanded]_

_[Grian has joined --- > Team Opposition] _

_[Scar has joined --- > Team Opposition] _

_[Darryl has joined --- > Team Opposition] _

**Wilbur's POV | August 11th | Team 7~**

"So much _fucking_ salmon," he muttered as he lugged in nearly three of the huge fish from the edge of the dome, where he'd been fishing. "Why is there so much salmon?" 

But, it was food, and that was better than nothing. 

"Yo, dude," a voice said calmly behind him.

Wilbur whirled to face the one-eyed man named Iskall. He reached for his bow, which lay on the ground, bot noticed that Iskall's sword was still slung across his back. He paused. 

Iskall threw him a lopsided grin. "Mind if I have a bit of that?"

Wilbur considered the man's words. "Does it come with a price?"

"No, but I'll teach you how to make a desalinator." 

"A what?"

"Saltwater purifier."

Wilbur perked up at that. "Yes, _please_."

_[Iskall left --- > Team 3] _

_[Team 3 has been disbanded]_

_[Iskall joined Team Salmon]_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yoooo I have a discord server now  
> join for updates and just to talk about stuff
> 
> https://discord.gg/yBqMHjh


	17. Chapter 16

**~Jacob's POV | August 11th | Team Braincells~**

_[Jacob left Team 13]_

_[Geo left Team 12]_

_[Team created: Team Braincells]_

_[Status: Alive, Slightly Injured]_

_[Members: Geo & Jacob] _

So apparently, the person he'd waved at across the lake had been Geo. He'd walked up to him with a bow, hoping that it wasn't someone who was deadly, and Geo had been asleep. Well, that had been the good part. Then, of course, he'd heard wolves howl and someone scream far off in the distance, and he wondered how many people were alive. 

"I'm losing so many braincells trying to see you make a saltwater thingamajig," Geo groaned as he rewrapped his bandages around his arm. 

"It's called _solar desalination_ ," Jacob told him as he placed a small rock on the plastic wrap, weighing it down, and turning with the second cup to hand it to Geo - the bowl that had been 'working' overnight to produce a small shallow cup of water from the bowl. "It works using a big bowl and a small bowl and evaporation."

"I'm just going to say I understand, and we can go from there," Geo said, taking the bowl and drinking half of it.

"That's 'cause you're not big brain like me." 

Geo rolled his eyes, a smirk forming on his face. "That's not fair! I have other skills!"

"Oh, like what?" Jacob teased. 

Geo paused, and then threw up his hands. "I promise I have talents, I just have no braincells right now!"

"You never have braincells," Jacob remarked, taking back the bowl of water after Geo had drunk his fill and sipping the water. "The next bowl will take like three hours if it continues to be sunny."

"We should make more."

Jacob raised an eyebrow. "Oh, okay! Okay! Why don't you just hand over another set of bowls and another piece of plastic wrap!"

"I don't have those things."

" _Exactly_."

**~George's POV | August 11th | Team Not Found~**

_[Team 1 has been renamed to Team Not Found]_

_[Status: Alive, Slightly Impaired]_

_[Members: George, Clay, & Vincent] _

"No, not the _yellow_ one, the green one!"

George fought to keep himself from screaming as he looked between two pouches that looked exactly the same. "Which one?"

"The _yellow_ one," Vincent said, sounding a bit angry. "It has the flint in it for the fire." He gestured down at the pile of dry twigs he was trying to light. 

George swallowed, looking down at the _identically_ colored bags. He took a guess and handed Vincent the one from his left hand.

"No, you idiot, the other one! Do you not know the difference between yellow and green?" 

George swallowed again, trying not to have tears prick at the corners of his eyes. "I'm, uh, colorblind." 

"Excuse me?"

He jumped as Clay appeared from thin air, his armful of sticks. "Huh?"

"You're...colorblind?" Clay asked him. 

He nodded, ashamed, and looked at the floor. "I found out when I was eight, and I took pills for it, but of course now I don't have any." 

"What does _colorblind_ mean?" Vincent asked.

"I can't see certain colors," George explained. "Like red and green are basically the same color to me. You think it's one thing; it looks identical." He scrunched his nose. "I saw the real colors two days ago, but now it's all gone."

It was so hard to explain - but the world plain _looked_ wrong, and the colors he remembered were slowly slipping from his grasp as he returned to the yellow and brown and blue world. He missed the colorful world.

"Sorry for yelling at you," Vincent apologized.

"Hey, it's fine, you didn't know."

**~Mumbo's POV | August 11th | Team Freedom Fighters~**

He fiddled with his makeshift jammer - a new one that he'd configured from two different cameras and a powerline. He was sure he'd increased the radius so it got through the entire arena. Sure, it wasn't necessary, but it sure made things easier. It wasn't like he could do anything to help Mega. He had to do _something_. 

Hanna was fashioning a pair of crutches from eight sticks, four long, four short, and a bunch of leaves she'd torn up and braided together. Stress was bent over Mega's leg, doing something with a needle and a thread, her hands bloody and her eyes surprisingly clear for what she was doing. Every so often, Mega would groan and roll, and she'd have to place a knee on his thigh to keep his leg from moving. Mumbo was honestly impressed with the rate of the pacifist girl's movements. 

Also, he was surprised that Mega could actually talk. He wasn't going to say anything about that, though. Mega, it seemed, didn't want to talk, and preferred to remain silent. 

He was torn from his thoughts when Mega sat up, heaving, his eyes wide, his hands instantly moving to the torn flesh of his leg.

"Sit _back_ ," Stress said in a soothing tone. "I need to finish this." 

He stared at her, and she gave him a kind smile in return. 

"Mumbo," she called out, and he started. "Did you finish your jammer?"

"I - yeah," he said, staring down at the metal in his hand. "It seems to work just fine."

"Good," Stress said. "If we're going to start a revolution, we don't want someone seeing our plans."

"Is that what we're doing?" Hanna said absentmindedly, as she yanked on two pieces of her makeshift rope. 

"Yeah, honestly, I'm with Hanna on this one," Mumbo said. " _Us?_ Start a revolution? You and I aren't fighters. None of us are true warriors." 

Stress paused in her work, looking up at Mumbo. "Sometimes the best wars need a push in the right direction. Not by action, but by words to motivate others." She tied off the piece of thread that had been found in the medical bag. "There. All done. Just don't walk on it for a bit and you shouldn't tear it open."

Hanna handed Mega the crutches, and Mumbo walked over and pulled the seventeen-year-old to his feet, watching as he used the crutches to maneuver himself properly. 

"Now," Stress said, clapping her bloody hands together. "How exactly should we start a revolution?"

**~Toby's POV | August 11th | Team Salmon~**

"Hey, mate," Phil said, a bit too calmly for Toby's liking. 

He clutched his ax in his hand, narrowing his gaze at the blonde-haired man who stood before him with a sword. Toby wasn't a fighter. But if Phil attacked him, he would go down with a bang.

His shoulder twinged in memory. He didn't like arrows anymore, not after that. Even Wilbur with a bow made him uncomfortable. 

Iskall was teaching them how to make a desalinator, and for that, it required a fire. So Toby had gone out to get wood, west, only to find Phil in one of the trees, watching him. 

"Hey," he said nervously.

"Are you alone out here?" Phil asked him.

He coughed. "Yep. Yep, I'm ALL ALONE OUT HERE!" He made sure to shout those words. 

"Okay, obviously you have teammates," Phil sighed. "Look, kid, I'm not going to attack you. Not unless you plan on attacking me."

"I do not plan on that, no," Toby said. 

Phil lowered his sword, and Toby took one hand off his ax, dropping it to his side. First Wilbur, now Iskall - then Phil? At this rate, they'd have everyone on their team by the end of the week.

Wait, that was a good idea. He'd have to take it up with Wilbur. 

_[Phil left Team 6]_

_[Team 6 has been disbanded]_

_[Phil joined Team Salmon]_

**~Mega's POV | August 11th | Team Freedom Fighters~**

His leg hurt like hell, but whatever tea Stress gave him was working well, even if he was insanely sleepy.

He didn't know if he wanted to be part of a revolution - of team _Freedom Fighters_ , but here he was, drawing the arena in the dirt with a stick like the picture they'd been briefly shown. His crutches were holding up well, and he wondered if Hanna would bust out an entire house in a _Five Minutes Crafts_ video; with the way she'd made the sticks and the leaves into a rope and into a pair of crutches altogether.

"Okay," Stress said, drawing the flat piece of driftwood they'd found towards her, away from Hanna, who had spelled out all the contestants' names in charcoal. "Who can we cross off the list that we trust?"

"Grian and Iskall," Mumbo said instantly. Mega turned to him, raising ane eyebrow. "Look, they're good guys, okay? Sure, Grian's a bit of a prankster and all that, but they wouldn't harm a fly. Actually, they would - just not a person. Not someone they knew, anyway."

"Okay," Stress nodded, drawing a neat line through their names. "And then Cleo - "

"Cleo's scary," Hanna said. 

Stress smiled. "Yeah, but once you get to know her, she's a funny gal. She likes animals. Could be useful in the future." 

Mega took a stick and thumped it on the ground for attention. The other three looked at him, and he drew six letters in the dirt. 

D - A - R - R - Y - L. 

And then in an afterthought, Z - A - K.

"I mean, yeah, Darryl's a wholesome guy," Hanna said. "But Zak can be...unpredictable."

"He'll follow along with what Darryl says," Stress said, crossing off their names one at a time in two straight lines of charcoal. 

"What?" Mumbo asked. 

"Oh, you couldn't tell?" Stress said. "They're in love."

Okay, Mega hadn't been expecting that. 

**~Nick's POV | August 11th | Team Apple~**

_[Team 4 has been renamed: Team Apple]_

"I see Techno- " Harvey started, from their crouched position west of the center of the arena. 

"Yeah, okay, _no_ ," Nick said, turning to leave.

"No, wait," Harvey said. "There's also Tommy - "

"I don't want to go anywhere near that child."

He almost heard Harvey roll his eyes. " - Darryl, Grian, and Scar."

Nick turned back to Harvey, interested. "Can I see?" Wordlessly, Harvey handed him the pair of binoculars they'd found. He knelt down and put them up to his face, looking down at the center of the arena. Techno and Tommy seemed to be going through a few practice moves, while Grian and Scar were laughing. He saw Darryl staring south, for some reason - not _looking_ for anything, exactly, just standing there absentmindedly. "Huh. Odd. I wouldn't have expected them to get together."

"Me neither," Harvey grunted. "I mean, Tommy literally follows Techno around _everywhere_ , and Grian and Scar are Housemates, but those are duos - and what the hell is Darryl doing with them?"

Nick sighed. "I guess desperate times call for desperate measures."

"Explains why I'm here with you," Harvey said.

Nick shoved him in the side as the handed back the binoculars. "Hey!"

Harvey picked them up with a grin on his face and scanned the region. Nick saw his mouth turn into a frown. "Wait. There's someone else there."

"What?" Nick asked, perturbed. 

"Not in the arena, down south," Harvey mused. "Behind the trees, I can see the smoke of a campfire, but I can't make out who it _is_." 

"Any movement?" 

"I - no, not really. But the fire isn't dying out, it's fresh."

"Well, we'll stay away from there, then," Nick said, resolutely. "Come on; let's go sleep for the night." 

_End of Day 2_

_Deaths: None_

_Injured: Mega, Zak, & Tommy _

_Hurt: Geo & George _

_Cameras: Malfunctioning_

_Teams: 8_

_Locations:_

__

_(https://postimg.cc/hQLRmMff)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Discord channel!
> 
> https://postimg.cc/hQLRmMff


	18. Chapter 17

**~Stress's POV | August 12th | Team Freedom Fighters~**

They were directly west of the center zone, now, and they had with them two jugs of water - Mumbo was carrying it - a few backpacks, one full of herbs - she was carrying that - the second full of medicinal needs - Mega was carrying that - and the third packets of rations what had come from an airdrop in the middle of the night. Hanna was carrying that one, along with her dagger, but the only other weapon they have was a bow, which Mumbo couldn't carry because he was carrying water jugs, and Mega couldn't use because he was on crutches. 

So reluctantly, Stress carried it. 

She spied a camera in the trees and waved to it, but the light was blinking red. "Guess your jammer is still working, Mumbo."

"Good," the man in question mumbled. "It took a while to get done." 

The only thing Stress was glad about was they hadn't come across any dead bodies, or bloodstains - a single empty campsite from the participants of maybe two or three people was all they'd found. People _have_ been here before because the chests are looted, but nobody is dead.

She wondered who was dead. If her former teammates, False, or Cleo, or even Iskall, were still alive. If her Housemates, Tommy and Darryl, were alive as well. Sure, Tommy was annoying, but she couldn't picture anyone killing the - as Wilbur had called him multiple times - child. She had found that funny, but Tommy not so much. 

And Darryl...she really hoped that Zak hadn't killed him. She'd seen them look at each other, and she wasn't _stupid_ \- they were incredibly stupid - she knew that look even if she hadn't seen it before, because that look signified more than friendship and more than anything she had ever seen before. 

Aries and Capricorn weren't considered compatible, nevermind the fact that both Zak and Darryl were the same gender, which Stress didn't care about. 

But Stress didn't feel like an Aries anymore. And looking at the rest of her teammates - at the freedom fighters - none of them seemed to fit the stereotype of their House anymore. Maybe they'd all been shoved into a circular room as a square, and they'd loosened their edges after finally being taken out. 

Things were complicated now. 

She had a feeling that in order to band everyone together, it would be endlessly more so. 

**~Harvey's POV | August 12th | Team Apple~**

"Well, shit."

He'd been watching the arena again, with Nick by his side, nearly eight hours later, and had turned around to see Tommy with his sword in his hand, glaring at them.

"Are you trying to _spy_ on us?" the boy asked incredulously.

"No - no," Harvey said. "We were just - " He glanced at Nick for help.

"Looking for...food," Nick said with a small gulp. 

"Bullshit," Tommy said.

"Okay, fine, we were spying on you," Harvey groused, climbing to his feet and shaking the dirt off you. "But it makes sense! You guys are the most powerful team!"

Tommy smirked. "Oh, really?"

"Really," Harvey nodded. He elbowed Nick. "Run."

"HEY!"

Harvey had made it just about ten paces into the wilderness when he slammed face-first into someone who was taller than him, carried a sword, and was just about the _worst_ person to meet in the arena. 

"Oh, hey Techno." 

"No, you're not going anywhere," Techno said, shaking his head at Harvey. "That move might work on Tommy, because he's a dumb orphan, but it's not gonna work on me."

"Hey, that's _rude_ ," Tommy said from behind him. "Watch out, _Technoblade_ , because I'm gonna get you back someday."

"Oh, are you?"

"Yeah, actually, no I'm not."

Techno rolled his eyes. "So, I take it you two are a team?"

"I've never met him in my life," Harvey said, glancing at Nick.

"I was studying psychology, nerd, that's not going to fool me for a second." 

**~False's POV | August 12th | Team Wolf~**

"So," Vurb said. "Are you going to kill me?"

"No," Cleo answered for her.

"Is your wolf going to kill me?"

"No."

"Are your toes going to kill me?"

"...no."

"Want to stand - "

"Oh my god, Vurb," Zak groaned, and False had to admit he wasn't looking very good; he was pale and pasty and seemed to have a soft sheen of sweat around him.

"What?!" Vurb said, looking taken aback.

"No, we're not going to kill you, and nor is Tortuga," False said, rolling her eyes at their antics. 

"You named the wolf?" Vurb asked. Tortuga snarled in warning, and Vurb jumped back. "Hahahahaha, of course, you named the wolf! Who wouldn't name the wolf? Tortuga is a nice name."

"I'm glad you think so," Cleo said with faint amusement. 

"So," Zak continued. "If you're not going to kill us, why are you still standing here?"

False glanced at Cleo, who shrugged. "Well, since all of us can unreservedly agree that these _Survival Games_ are stupid and a waste of lives...how about we team up?"

"Against who?" Zak asked, sounding interested. 

"Not any of our friends," False responds, crossing her arms. Zak nodded. "Against the Star Sign leaders. Against the people who _put_ us here and are trying to force us to murder each other in cold blood." 

"Have you seen Darryl?" the short, black-haired boy asked out of nowhere. 

"No, I'm sorry, we haven't," Cleo frowned. "Why?"

"We...got separated," Zak said, glancing at the floor.

False didn't think that was the full story, but she wasn't going to pry either.

**~Hanna's POV | August 12th | Team Freedom Fighters~**

"Why is there so much salmon?" she asked, as she and Mumbo peered into the lake, her dagger in her hand as she prepared to spear a fish. 

"There is a lot of salmon," Mumbo agreed. "Maybe the Star Sign elders are having a good gander at us."

"You turned off their cameras, though."

"Right."

They waited in silence, Hanna narrowing her eyes as she waited for the perfect opportunity to try to get them dinner. 

She got one, about two feet long, and carried it proudly back to the fire Stress and Mega were making; the latter setting up a desalinator and the former just coming out of the trees with an armful of wood. 

"We might have to make a stew," Stress said thoughtfully, as Hanna threw the salmon into the pot for temporary storage. "You know since we don't have a frying pan." 

"As long as it's food, I don't care," Mumbo said tiredly.

Stress smiled at him. "It'll be edible; I can't promise it'll be the best thing you've ever had, though." 

Hanna watched as Stress borrowed her knife to cut up the salmon into chunks. She used some of the water and a bit of saltwater for saltiness, and then tossed in some of her herbs - Hanna only recognized rosemary. Stress than tossed in a couple carrots a couple wild tomatoes they'd found that the girl had safely identified. 

"You know," Hanna said, as she watched the stew come to a boil. "If you were a fighter and you wanted to kill us all, I think you could."

Stress shook her head. "Sorry, love, I don't think I could." 

Mumbo shook his head. "No, Hanna's right. A combination of you and Techno would be - " He shuddered. "Really scary." 

Hanna watched as Mega nodded in agreement.

"Good thing we're two separate people, then," Stress said, taking a block of wood. "Mind cutting a divot in this like a bowl?"

Hanna did so, handed the dagger off to Mumbo to do the same, and went to wash her bowl in the lake to take off the layer of dirt. She glanced back at the campfire, at Stress, who was now laughing at something - probably Mumbo, who looked like he was struggling with something. 

The arena was quiet - last night there had been some wolves, and Mega had screamed. But now it was _too_ quiet, and Hanna wondered how many people were still alive and if so...how they had died. 

She couldn't bring herself to forgive the people that could have possibly killed others. 

And the stew was delicious. Hanna gave it five out of five stars. 

**~Clay's POV | August 12th | Team Not Found~**

He watched wordlessly as the package drifted onto the field that separated him and _Team Opposition_. In his opinion, that was a horrible team name. It really sucked. 

George and Vincent, by his side, stood close, as they faced off against Techno, Tommy, Grian, Scar, Nick, and Harvey - not so much Darryl, who stood in the background, looking a bit sad. 

"That ruined my speech," Techno complained as Clay watched the small package hit the ground in front of him, not two feet away.

"You weren't even _making_ a speech," Vincent pointed out, as Clay set down his shield to pick up the package. 

"I know, but I was going to, and it was going to be _great_ , and then I was going to destroy you nerds."

"You were going to _kill_ us?" George sounded horrified; obviously, he didn't know Techno very well.

"Shh," Clay said, brushing the dust off the metal box. 

"What's in it?" Tommy asked, despite the situation they were in. After all, they had been friends before this - Clay couldn't blame the kid for being curious. 

Clay thumbed over the small words engraved in the top. "Happy birthday 37326," he read out. "Well, I mean, that's both sweet and weird at the same time. Who says happy birthday to someone using their _birth ID_?"

"It's your birthday?" Grian asked.

Clay nodded distractedly. "I turned twenty-one earlier this morning."

"Why didn't you _say_ anything?" George demanded. 

Clay didn't pay attention to his friends as he slowly opened the box to reveal a bag of what seemed to be dried blackberries, and...and a datapad. 

"What the hell?" Nick muttered. 

He tapped it, once, and the flat piece of metal came to life, twenty-four names appearing on it. He scanned it. Alphabetical order. 

Clay. Cleo. Darryl. Techno. False. Geo. George. Grian. Hanna. Harvey. Iskall. Jacob. Mega. Mumbo. Nick. Phil. Scar. Stress. Toby. Tommy. Vincent. Vurb. Wilbur. And Zak.

A row of ten hearts below each of them. He quickly noticed that while he had ten, George had nine, Geo had nine as well, Tommy had eight, Mega had _four_ , and Zak had a measly _two_. 

"We are sorry to inform you that our cameras do not work, so we cannot give you exactly what you need, but take this as a birthday gift," George read out from the inscription. 

"What _is_ that?" Techno asked curiously.

Clay scanned it one last time. So the cameras weren't working. _Interesting_. He noticed a tiny blinking green light at the top of the datapad. "It's a list of all the tributes," he said. "And their state of health."

And then he dropped it to the ground and stomped on it. 

"WHAT WAS THAT FOR?" Darryl screamed.

"They were watching," Clay breathed, seeing the inner workings fizzle out. "The cameras aren't working. They don't know what is happening here." 

He saw understanding flicker in Techno's eyes. 

_[Vincent has left Team Not Found]_

_[George has left Team Not Found]_

_[Clay has left Team Not Found]_

_[Team Not Found has been disbanded]_

_[Vincent has joined Team Opposition]_

_[George has joined Team Opposition]_

_[Clay has joined Team Opposition]_

**~Wilbur's POV | August 12th | Team So-Much-Fucking-Salmon~**

Geo and Jacob had joined their group.

He seriously wondered if, by the end of this, they'd be one big happy family again, just like they had been back in the week before - before they'd been sent out in this stupid arena to murder each other until only one was left. 

The six of them sat in a silent circle around the fire. They had food and water and some medicine, and still more water was created using Iskall's desalinator. 

But that didn't mean they were okay. Nor that they were fine. Or that they would _ever_ be okay. 

Because while they were physically okay - besides Geo, but the guy had fallen into a thornbush, so it was kinda his own fault - while they were physically okay, the psychic issues were getting to them.

Wilbur understood why the commanders and generals of armies didn't let their men sit around and think, suddenly. While they were always doing something. Because while he was thinking, he was questioning every decision he had ever made. He was questioning the society he lived in, and how it could be made better.

How he _wanted_ to make it better.

Like that one story of the Americas and the Civil War that had taken place to free people from a life of slavery. 

The question was...was he a slave, or was he a freedom fighter?

_End of Day 3_

_Deaths: None_

_Injured: Mega & Zak _

_Hurt: Tommy, Geo & George _

_Cameras: Broken_

_Teams: 4_

_Locations:_

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://discord.gg/yBqMHjh
> 
> Discord channel :D


	19. Chapter 18

**~Jacob's POV | August 13th | Team So-Much-Fucking-Salmon~**

He had a bow, but there was False and there was Cleo and there were Zak and Vurb - and for heaven's sake there was a _wolf_ , and on his side, there was Wilbur and Toby and Geo and Iskall and Phil and they were _doomed_. 

But False held her sword loosely at her side, and Cleo wasn't really holding her staff liked she intended to beat someone up with it; Zak looked _really sick_ , like _really_ sick, and Vurb just had a dagger and was supporting Zak. 

"So," he said, to ease the tension. "How's everyone doing? Have a nice bit of sleep?"

"No," Zak groaned. "Everything hurts too much."

False looked over at him worriedly, and Jacob realized she cared about him - and he realized that he cared for the people who stood beside _her_ , and even cared about _her_ life. 

"The cameras are off," Wilbur remarked quietly. 

False's head shot up. "What?"

"The cameras," Wilbur said. "They can't see us. They're _off_."

False's face betrayed no emotion as she glanced at each individual. "Well," she said, after a moment. "In that case..."

And then she threw her sword to the ground. Jacob watched in surprise as it arced and plopped on the grassy ground in which they'd met; a bit south of the arena center. 

"I'm not doing this," she said resolutely. "Maybe I'm a warrior, but that's just for _fun_ . I _won't_ take the lives of my _friends_ . People who make others do that are _sick_ and wrong and they are the ones who deserve to be here, not us. If they want death so much, they should do their own damn dirty work."

_[Team So-Much-Fucking-Salmon has been disbanded]_

_[Geo has joined Team Vanquishers]_

_[Jacob has joined Team Vanquishers]_

_[Wilbur has joined Team Vanquishers]_

_[Toby has joined Team Vanquishers]_

_[Iskall has joined Team Vanquishers]_

_[Phil has joined Team Vanquishers]_

**~George's POV | August 13th | Team Opposition~**

"There's a water shortage," he mentioned briefly to Techno, still slightly skirting his boundaries around the warrior. At least he had survived the night and not been stabbed by anyone. 

Techno nodded. "Yeah, I checked - "

"You mean you got _me_ to check," Tommy called, from where he was replacing his bandages from what Darryl had called a wolf attack. 

"And you followed my orders."

"Yeah, because you're _Technoblade_."

"Wait," George said slowly. "Like, the VR Minecraft streamer guy who gives blood to the blood god?"

Techno blinked at him. "That's me."

"You're a celebrity."

"Yes."

"So humble," Clay snorted. "I'm pretty sure I beat you."

"You did _not_."

"I'm Dream, idiot. How did you not figure it out when I literally named my team the Dream Team?"

"...oh no, it's you." 

"Exactly." 

**~Mumbo's POV | August 13th | Team Freedom Fighters~**

He was watching the others in the center, and those just south of the center, with a pair of binoculars he'd found in the forest. 

"Looks like False's Team and Wilbur's Team just joined forces," he muttered, mostly to himself, but Mega, next to him, heard as well, as he watched ten figures disappear, together, into the forest. "That's ten for False's team, and ten for Techno's."

"I have a feeling this isn't going to end well," Hanna muttered, hearing the tail end of the conversation, as she came back in with a cupful of blackberries. She sat down next to Mumbo and picked up one of the blackberries. "Want one?"

"Sure," he said, graciously accepting it.

"DON'T EAT THAT!" he heard Stress shriek, and in his panic, he threw it away as hard as he could in the opposite direction of his mouth.

"What? Why?" Hanna asked, confused, as she stared down at her basket of blackberries. 

"Those are nightswolf berries," Stress said, snatching the cup out of Hanna's lap. "It makes your heart stop."

Hanna's eyes opened wide, and her jaw dropped. "I'm so sorry, Mumbo," she said, turning to him. "I - I didn't know - "

"It's fine," he told her, watching as Stress tucked the cup into her backpack. "You didn't know."

Still, he wasn't going to eat any berries for the next few days unless Stress gave the okay. Or eat anything. 

Hanna looked horrified, drawing her knees to her chest.

"It's not your fault," he reassured her.

"I could've killed you," she said, letting out a small sob. "I..I could've been one of the people in the arena that took another life."

"Even if you had, it would have been indirectly," he soothed her. "They look like blackberries. Nobody would have blamed you." Stress nodded in agreement.

" _I_ would have blamed me," Hanna said resolutely. "I...would have blamed myself."

"But _nothing_ happened," he said gently. "We're okay. Everything is going to be fine."

**~Zak's POV | August 13th | Team Vanquishers~**

With the help of a bit of medicine, his wounds started to heal slowly, and by the third day, he could walk straight, though twisting his back still hurt, as Tommy would have said, like a _bitch_. 

Honestly, he wondered if the annoying child was still alive. He wanted Tommy to be alive - and at the same time, part of him was wishing that to win, they wouldn't have to go through the other fourteen people, wherever they were. 

They were directly south of the center arena. He hadn't been told much about the plan, but Wilbur, False, Iskall, and Toby were convening to figure something out. He could smell smoke at one point of falling asleep, and sometimes he blinked and things went black.

Still. He was able to walk, and Vurb joked with him, and he made stupid puns - but the everlasting feeling of dread still coursed through him in random intervals. 

Where was Darryl? 

_Where was Darryl?_

Had he survived? Had he run fast enough?

Zak felt a stupid grin fall across his face as he lay back against a tree. 

He loved Darryl. He loved Darryl. Darryl loved him back. They had been so close in that cave - so _very_ close, and then those _stupid_ wolves; one of them Tortuga, whom he stayed far away from even though Cleo assured him the wolf was safe - had separated them. 

He willed Darryl to be alive. To be there so they could finally embrace without wolves bothering them. 

There were many problems with the situation at hand. He had them all listed out. 

  * Was Darryl alive?
  * They weren't compatible houses; nobody would allow them to be together
  * They were both boys
  * They were in _love_



"Oh, gods, you're thinking about Darryl again, aren't you," Vurb grimaced, coming into Zak's field of view. 

"What? No!"

Vurb rolled his eyes. "Come on sleepyhead, get up. False wants to speak to all of us."

"But I'm comfortable," he groaned. 

"I'll suck your toes."

"I'm up." 

**~Mega's POV | August 13th | Team Freedom Fighters~**

He lay awake well after the fire had died down; the only noise Mumbo and Hanna snoring. But that wasn't why he couldn't sleep.

There were distinctly two separate groups, now - False's team, and Techno's team. One, north, and one, south. And then there was his team - the Freedom Fighters, which he did believe in - to try to fight against the regime that was the Star Signs; to get _rid_ of the Survival Games once and for all, to end this competition so that in the coming years there would be no more death.

At least, that was Stress's master plan. Mega felt like they needed a better plan than _march in and tell the Star Signs no_. 

That wouldn't work so well. Stress seemed inclined to think it would. 

And Stress was a great person. She could cook extremely well, identify plants, and, from what Hanna had said under her breath, shoot a bow. 

But she _was_ a pacifist, and even Mega knew that words wouldn't be the only things thrown in this battle. 

If they were to overthrow the system, they all would need more than a few words. He _knew_ , in his heart, what was left of it, anyway - that there would be a physical battle, and they would either win or lose.

But they would do that together.

And they would win together...or they would die together.

**~Phil's POV | August 13th | Team Vanquishers~**

"We march in there near dawn," False said. 

"What if they attack us?" Toby voiced.

False leveled him with a look. "Then everything we would like to work for is false." She smirked at her own pun. "But I do not believe that will come to pass, because I don't think Techno is inclined to shoot you, Mr. Sixteen-year-old."

"Yeah, well _you_ injured him," Phil pointed out.

"Exactly," False said. "We need to all be on the same page here, all twenty-four of us - if that many remain." Her face falls for a brief second. "And I don't know if there are still fourteen people out there - with all the wolves, and saltwater...who knows. All that matters is that _we're_ alive, and we won't stop fighting until all of us are dead."

"Dunno about that one, chief," Vurb muttered. 

"Oh?" False said. "We all want freedom. If we are to die, I would rather have all of you on my side than against me."

"Wisely stated," Wilbur nodded, looking around at the nine others. "We have the advantage of moving onto the people in the center. I don't know how many are there - at least five or six, from the brief looks I saw. That means that the others could be hidden, or dead. I want to be prepared for that, because this competition only has three days left, including tomorrow. And at the end of the seventh day...who knows what the Star Signs will do once they find out we're still alive. All of us."

"Probably try to kill us," Zak muttered.

"You are correct," False said. "They probably will. But there is a world outside these thirteen domes, and we need to get out of here. I want you to know that whatever happens - none of us are going home." The realization filled the faces of the people around the fire. "We win - we escape, or potentially overthrow the government. The world as we know it will change. We die..."

"Then we're definitely not going home," Cleo smirked. 

"I never liked my dome anyway," Wilbur muttered. "It was too lonely."

"You're just awkward," Phil said. 

"Shush," Wilbur said. "I am not awkward."

"You are _totally_ awkward," Toby nodded. "Tommy told me that the only reason you hung out with us in the first place is 'cause he pestered you until you did."

"And you believe everything Tommy said?" 

"Yeah, Tommy is on the _enemy_ team," Jacob cut in.

False coughed. "Reminder that they are not our enemy."

"They sure act like they are," Geo muttered. "We don't bring weapons to conjugate with friends." 

_End of Day 4_

_Deaths: None_

_Injured: Mega_

_Hurt: Tommy & Zak _

_Cameras: Broken_

_Teams: 3_

_Locations:_

__


	20. Chapter 19

**~Stress's POV | August 14th | Team Freedom Fighters~**

She shook Hanna, Mega, and Mumbo awake as she watched ten people walk onto the main arena field. Ten more faced them, armed and ready. Ten versus ten. Who truly knew who would win?

Stress wasn't about to let that happen.

"What's happening?" Hanna groaned.

"They're gonna _kill_ each other," Stress hissed, grabbing her bow, regret coursing through her as she stepped through the expanse of the trees. Nobody was looking west as the four of them walked onto the tense battlefield. Thirty feet. Twenty. Ten.

"So this is how it ends?" False said, shifting her grip on her sword. On her right, Wilbur looked uncomfortable, on her left Cleo hefted her staff, a _wolf_ growling by her feet. 

"I guess so," Techno said easily. His sword was still across his back, and he had a package of dried berries in his hand, newly opened. 

"After all this?" False hissed. "You are willing to give up our years of friendship - for what? To survive?"

Techno's eyes flashed. "If you survive, False, then you will be haunted by years of pain. Look around you. _Everyone here will be dead_."

"And you think you can take this burden, this _choice_ , from any one of us?" False shot back. "I am not fighting to win. I do not wish to fight at all."

"Then why do you have a sword?" Techno asked calmly, hefting the berries in his hand.

"Because I don't trust _you_."

"Funny, I could say the same thing," Techno said, narrowing his eyes at the blonde-haired girl.

Friend against foe. Family against family. Stress was frozen in place, unable to move, as she watched bows get drawn back, albeit reluctantly, and weapons drawn. 

"We don't have to do this," False begged.

"There can only be one winner," Techno said, tossing the dried blackberry up in the air to catch it in his mouth, his other hand reaching for his sword.

 _Wait_. That wasn't a blackberry.

Faster than she thought possible, her instincts caught ahold of her, and though she could barely see the tiny black thing, dozens of feet from her - she drew back an arrow and shot it at the nightswolf that was heading directly for Techno's mouth. 

She watched as it hit the berry, knocking it off-course just enough to miss the pink-haired man's mouth, the tip just _barely_ grazing Techno's nose.

And she found her voice. 

"STOP!"

**~Cleo's POV | August 14th | Team Vanquishers~**

It was almost a relief to hear Stress's voice shriek across the field, as an arrow shot across the would-be-battlefield, just narrowly missing Techno. 

Cleo looked left to see Stress standing there, chest heaving, a bow in hand, the bowstring still quivering. Hanna stood behind her with a dagger, awkwardly, and Mumbo and Mega behind the second brown-haired girl. 

"What the fuck?" Tommy muttered. 

"For once, I'm inclined to agree with you," Clay said under his breath to the blonde-haired boy. 

"Did you just try to _kill_ me?" Techno asked incredulously.

"If I had tried to kill you, you would be dead," Stress hissed, sounding angry. 

"I thought you were a pacifist," Nick said. "You are carrying a bow." 

"A pacifist is someone who opposes violence for settling conflicts," Stress sniffed. "Put down the berries, Techno."

"Why?" Techno asked, frowning, staring at the package. "They're dried blackberries - Clay got them for his birthday."

"No," Stress said. "That's _nightswolf_. It stops your heart."

Techno stared down at the package. Cleo's mouth dropped open. What the _hell_ was happening?

She had thought that she was going to kill her friends - that across from her, Grian and Scar and Nick and all the people she knew she would have to kill alongside her other friends- and she had been scared and terrified. She didn't _want_ to do that. She had no wish to. 

She didn't want to kill her friends.

**~Techno's POV | August 14th | Team Opposition~**

He stared at the brown-haired girl who had saved his life by shooting an arrow through a berry that would have taken his life in seconds. He glanced over at False, at his Housemate, at the person who had been his lifelong friend. Before this mess. Before the Zodiac Signs. Before the Survival Games. He wished they could go back to before. 

"Look around you," Stress said, dropping her bow to the ground. "LOOK AROUND YOU!" The end of her voice rose into a scream. "LOOK AT THE PEOPLE YOU WOULD HAVE KILLED!"

Techno stared across the battlefield, at False, at Wilbur, at Phil, at Toby, and they stared back, their eyes shifting from person to person as they took in Stress's words.

"You look them in the eyes and you tell them you would have killed them," Stress said frostily. "Any one of you do that, and I will stand back and let you murder each other until there is one standing."

Techno opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. What was he supposed to say? He was ashamed. He was staring at Wilbur and he could not tell the tall brown-haired man that he could kill him.

He didn't know if he could. He had been prepared to try, but he didn't know if he had the strength internally.

"Stress," Hanna murmured over the silence. 

Stress ignored Hanna. "That's what I _thought_. You look at the people you call your friends - and you tell them that you are enemies. That you do see each other as people you need to get by to win." She looked at Techno. "You have nine other people on your side, Techno. No matter what happens, this will end in sadness and tears and _death_."

"That is the only way to end this," he found himself saying. 

**~Vurb's POV | August 14th | Team Vanquishers~**

Stress stepped in the middle of both teams, and Vurb was suddenly very glad that that glare wasn't focused upon him, because _dang_ , that was scary. "You look to your left and right," she said icily. "And you look your teammates in the eyes and you tell them that you are prepared to _kill_ them." She whirled to face the other team; Vurb's team. "ALL OF YOU LOOK AT YOUR TEAMMATES AND TELL EACH OTHER THAT!"

He could not.

"We can't kill each other," Stress said firmly. "Because we are a _family_."

Movement.

Two people moved on either side, and Vurb watched as Zak leaped from his left and ran to embrace Darryl from the other side, whom he hadn't even realized was there. 

"You're not dead," the taller boy breathed out, cupping Zak's face. He had to look _away_ , because that looked to intimate for him to be watching. 

"Guess you didn't have any faith in me," the younger teased. 

"What? I - no, that's not what I meant - "

Zak silenced him with a kiss. 

There was a tense silence.

"That's awkward," Tommy said in a loud whisper.

"Shut up Tommy," Techno, Wilbur, and Phil all said in unison. 

Stress watched the exchange with interest as Zak and Darryl broke apart, their faces bright red - but happiness, _true_ happiness, on their faces. "We are a family," she whispered. "We are a _family_ , and true families do not get broken apart by conflict." She raised her head to appraise all of them. "Some of us are closer to some than others. That's _fine_. But we are all one family, and I _refuse_ to see something so beautiful torn apart by violence when there is no need for destruction!" 

"Someone has to win," Techno argued. 

"THIS IS NOT A GAME THAT YOU CAN WIN!" Stress screamed. "EVERYONE WILL LOSE, TECHNO!" Tears poured down her face. "THINK ABOUT IT! If you are the last one standing, then False will be dead. Then Wilbur and Phil will be dead. If you _win_ , then Tommy will be dead. I _know_ you think of him like the annoying little brother who won't shut up, but those people are still family."

"Eh," Techno muttered. "Can we kick him out?"

"Shut up," Tommy groused. 

**~Vincent's POV | August 14th | Team Opposition~**

Stress was right. He saw something between Darryl and Zak that was pure and beautiful and _right_. Something that the Zodiac Signs had never allowed between two non-compatibles, nevermind two people of the same gender. He could not kill them. He could not kill any of them. 

"We are not enemies," Stress continued. "We are not enemies, we are a _family_ , and despite our disputes and bouts and fights and arguments, families _stick together_. Twenty-four of us have banded together and refused to kill each other, and twenty-four people stand here today because of the choices we made. This is the fifth day, and we do not die today, because we are not enemies." 

"Someone has to win," Techno said, with less finality than the last time.

"We will never win," Stress hissed. "We will _never_ win. The only people that win are the Zodiac Elders. The only people that win are the people who tear families apart and tell us that _that_ \- " She pointed at Zak and Darryl. " - that _that_ is a bad thing, that Aries and Capricorn aren't compatible and that you cannot form a relationship with someone of your own gender, yet _here we are_. I know all of you feel more comfortable not being forced, like cubes, into spheres. That we all have been relaxing our borders and letting it out. So we can be ourselves, not someone we were forced to be." 

**~Wilbur's POV | August 14th | Team Vanquishers~**

"Those are the only people that are our enemy," Stress said, pointing up at the sky. "Those are the people who are our enemy - who seek to rip us apart, who wish to tear apart the very bonds that make us people. We have _tasted freedom_ , and I will not let that taste linger and fade."

"What's your point?" he said, not mean or angry...just curious.

Stress regarded him with her warm brown eyes. "My point is that we cannot fight each other, because we cannot win by fighting each other. None of us want this. _None of us want this_. We should not fight each other - we should fight the people who make a sport of twenty-four people, some of us no more than _children_ \- we should fight the people who _put us here in the first place_."

"You're recommending we fight against the Zodiac Elders?" False wondered. 

"Yes," Stress admitted. "Yes, I am. I am not saying it will be easy. Because they have every advantage, and they have guns while we have swords and they have plasma shields while we have bows and they have technology while we have nothing - but they do not know that we fight together. They don't know we all live."

"Actually," Clay cut in. "They do. We have trackers in our necks." 

"Then we remove them," Stress said, without missing a beat. "We remove them one by one so as not to get suspicious and when there is one person left on the seventh day we will surprise them." She glanced around at the twenty-three people who watched her silently. "They can send us into this arena, they can send wolves at us, they can tell us to _kill each other_ , but in the end, our choices are our _own_ , and we are a family, and families fight together."

"What do you fight for?" Techno asked her.

"I fight for freedom," Stress replied. "I fight so that no man, woman, or child - " This with a glance at Tommy and Toby. " - will _ever_ have to walk upon these grounds again and kill another person. I fight so that we have the freedom to choose what to do and who to be and they are not assigned by our damn birth months. I fight so that the Survival Games will be eradicated and we are free from this mess we call a society." She paused for emphasis. "We either win and gain our freedom together, or we fight and die, together as well.

Are you with me?"


	21. Chapter 20

**~Geo's POV | August 14th | Team Vanquishers~**

He was hurt and he was injured and he was staring at the people who should be opponents, and everyone was glancing around at each other, weapons in hand, wondering, even as Stress spoke, whether or not they would still attack. 

He did not want to. 

He did not want to attack Darryl or George or Vincent or Harvey or Nick or Tommy or _anyone_ on the other team, and he did not want to kill. He did not want to fight them.

But he was angry.

He was angry at the Zodiac Elders for forcing them all to participate in this. He was so _incredibly_ angry with them for forcing them to be people they were not, for separating people he could've been lifelong friends with.

He hadn't missed this before, but he couldn't miss something he hadn't known about...and he knew about this now. He had known freedom, and he wouldn't give it up now. He couldn't even imagine sitting in classes with _only Jacob_ \- not that Jacob was bad, he was just one person, and now that Geo had met others he'd be proud to call his friends, he didn't want to go back to that.

To being a Libra - to be forced to have the personalities that Libras had - social, fair-minded, diplomatic, and gracious - which were good traits, but Geo hated being forced to _have_ them. He had seen diversity; had seen the sarcastic sense that Techno used and the weird sense of humor that Tommy carried; bullying others. Zak had that too, but was always softer around Darryl, which he respected. Darryl was a completely odd character, a bit like Toby in the follower sense, but _nothing at all_ like Stress, the kind, caring, pacifist girl she was. 

Imagine if all oft hem had been truly allowed to explore their personalities. They had all started out as Zodiac Signs, and now they weren't just _labels_ , weren't _trophies_ their Houses could use to get fame...they were people, and people had a limit, and that limit was _now_. 

Never again.

**~George's POV | August 14th | Team Opposition~**

There was complete and utter shocked silence after Stress finished her strange revolution speech. What she was _considering_ \- no, what she had _decided_ she was going to do and was dragging everyone headlong into it. 

But, George admitted, he would rather die fighting than die killed by Clay or Nick or Wilbur or _any one_ of his friends, really. 

Surprisingly, the first person that talked wasn't False or Techno, who both looked semi-lost in thought. It was Toby.

"I'm with you," the young boy said. "I don't want to be here." He looked slightly uncomfortable at the attention focused on him. "I hate it here. I hate my House - _not_ the people," he clarified when Zak made a hurt face. "I'm actually dyslexic." The last bit was mumbled a bit sheepishly. 

George blinked at the sixteen-year-old.

"Oh, is that why you spent hours staring at the math book?" Zak said. 

Toby nodded silently. 

Tommy coughed for attention, and George watched as he walked across the field to sling an arm around Toby. "You go, Toby," the blonde-haired boy said with seriousness that rivaled whenever Techno talked about potatoes. "I mean, you guys call me child a lot - far too often - but you're right, I am the youngest here."

"Couldn't have guessed that," Techno muttered. 

"Besides, what's a life without a little excitement?" Tommy said.

"Not dying," Vincent pointed out.

"Eh, semantics." 

**~Mumbo's POV | August 14th | Team Freedom Fighters~**

He watched, as one by one, the people stepped forward and joined their side - the Freedom Fighters. He watched as they said their faults and fears for their _family_ to hear; because they hadn't had families before, because families were separated - never again. 

Never again.

"Well, I mean, I'm not allowed to be with Darryl outside of here, so I'm obviously fighting," Zak said with a shrug, looking at Darryl with a small smile on his face. 

Darryl poked him. "That's not a good enough reason, you muffin."

" _You're_ a good enough reason."

"I think they're flirting," Toby whispered to Tommy.

"Ick," Tommy said. 

"Shut up, Tommy," Techno, Wilbur, and Phil said in unison once again.

"This is what I've always wanted," False admitted. "That was my plan before today. To join together and get out of the thirteen domes and see what is beyond the world of the Zodiac Signs." A small smile rose on her face, and she reached forward and hugged Stress, the brown-haired girl closing her eyes and hugging her back. 

Until it was only Techno facing them, the pink-haired man lost in thought as he regarded the silence around him. 

"We're going to die," Techno said. 

"I am well-prepared to know that already," Stress said. "They have all the advantages. But I would rather go down fighting than die following their ridiculous rules."

"Okay, then," Techno said. "Where do we start?"

False blinked. "Just like that?"

"Just like that," he said. 

Stress's face broadened in what Mumbo considered an evil grin. "First we take the trackers out." She looked over at Mumbo. "Or we disable them."

"Hey, I don't know anything about jamming those things," Mumbo said, holding his hands up. "I just build stuff."

George coughed. "I can code."

"Since _when_?" Clay demanded.

George rolled his eyes. "Since forever, dumbass."

_[Team Opposition has been disbanded]_

_[Team Vanquishers has been disbanded]_

**~Zak's POV | August 14th~**

He held hands with Darryl tightly as the group sat in a circle around a fire - not in the direct center; that was where the Star Signs would no doubt emerge to congratulate the winner.

"We have a water problem," Clay mentioned. "I mean, food's all sorted thanks to the middle supplies, but everything seems to be saltwater."

"Yeah, and if you wouldn't mind," Mumbo said. "Stress, could you possibly check every single package of dried berries to make sure they aren't poisonous?"

Stress shook her head, a smile on her face. "Of course I can. I'm just waiting for Hanna and Cleo to get back with the supplies."

"You guys have _supplies_?" Zak demanded. 

"Yeah, medical stuff - should help with your injuries, Zak, and you as well, Tommy - the cooking pot, my herbs, and of course the jugs of water."

"You guys have _jugs_ of water?" he demanded again.

She didn't blink an eye. "I know how to make a water desalinator." 

"We had one as well," False mentioned. "I don't think it worked as well as yours though." 

"I had a pot with a mountainous lid," Stress said with a shrug. "Ah! There they are!"

Zak turned his head around to see False and Hanna each carrying a metal jug at least two feet tall, and it looked really heavy.

"You have nightswolf in your backpack," False said to Stress, not _accusing_ , really, but just...mentioning it. 

"Yeah, because there was some in the wild and Hanna tried giving some to Mumbo thinking they were berries."

Hanna groaned. "I'm sorry, okay?"

**~Mega's POV | August 14th~**

Tactics. They were talking tactics while George, Mumbo, and Iskall, who apparently knew some things, went off to try to disable the chips that were in their necks. 

"- last person standing can't be you or False," Stress was saying. 

"But it makes the most sense!" False argued. 

Techno shook his head. "No, Stress is right. Either False and I winning...it's too easy. Someone in the middle needs to win."

"I'll do it," Wilbur said suddenly.

"What?" Phil said.

"I'll do it," Wilbur said firmly. "It's either me, Tommy, Phil, or Grian. And I don't trust Tommy - "

"Wow, okay Wilbur," Tommy said, sounding annoyed. "I can do this."

Wilbur shook his head. "It's not that I don't trust you to pull this off - but that position will by far be the most dangerous. If we hope to pull this off, the person in the center will be the _first_ person fired on. I am not letting a sixteen-year-old do that for me." 

Tommy shrugged. "Okay, fine, then." 

Wilbur rolled his eyes. "Anyway, I'll do it."

"You sure?" Techno asked him.

"I am," Wilbur said firmly.

"Great," Stress said. "Then we just need the tech boys to figure out the whole chip thing, and we can start...killing people off."

Cleo laughed awkwardly. "I volunteer as tribute." 

Stress nodded. "That's fine. But I recommend that Techno and False die within minutes of each other; like they both fought and died of injuries."

"I can see that happening," False admitted. 

"Also that Zak and Darryl die at the same time," Geo said. 

Zak frowned. "What? Why?"

"Because it's _romantic_ ," Jacob said, wiggling his fingers. 

Darryl blushed. "Shut - shut up."

Stress nodded, not blinking an eye. "Okay, sure, I guess. We'll just do it randomly from there if nobody has any more input?"

Everyone looked around the circle. Nobody talked. 

"Great," Stress said, clapping her hands. "On to other plans, then." 

_End of Day 5_

_Deaths: ???_

_Injured: ???_

_Cameras: Broken_

_Teams: ???_

_Locations: Unknown_

**~Phil's POV | August 15th~**

Tomorrow. Tomorrow would be the day that Wilbur walked onto the field and they would proclaim the winner - tomorrow is when the revolution began. 

Tomorrow people might die. 

He clutched his sword closer to his chest, watching - watching to see if the Star Signs had somehow figured it out and were coming for them. His hands shook as he glanced back at the people scattered around the fire; at Wilbur and Techno and Tommy.

He was doing this for them. He would give them freedom. He would give the future contenders in the Survival Games. Mumbo and George were ready to switch the cameras on again - ready to show the world that they were one family. He knew that some of them would die tomorrow. He had a strong feeling that Wilbur would join the fallen. 

After all, the man was walking onto a field into the midst of soldiers, as bait, and then the other twenty-three would come out. What were the chances he _wouldn't_ die? 

Tommy had been a bit bummed out he hadn't gotten to do it, but everyone had voted _against_ the youngest person in the group to volunteer themselves to die. Phil felt like Tommy had known what he was doing when he'd said he'd do it instead of Wilbur - the kid was pretty smart for his age. Of course, nobody had supported Tommy in his expedition to be a hero, because he was the youngest here and everyone, it seemed, had unanimously decided that children shouldn't get to give up their lives when they didn't have to. Phil himself was the oldest here - eleven years older than Tommy and Toby. 

He took a sip from a cup of water that Scar had nervously fiddled - he had no idea how the guy had _accidentally_ made around twelve cups, but that was his quirk - and Phil was pretty much here for it. Along with the desalinators that Stress and Iskall had; they were pretty much set with food, water, weapons, and even medicine. 

Stress had also had an allergy attack when it came to lavender; apparently, it made her nose and throat swell up and she sneezed a lot. 

Phil sighed and got up to go wake up the next person in line for watch - Darryl. 

_End of Day 6_

_Deaths: ???_

_Injured: ???_

_Cameras: Broken_

_Teams: ???_

_Locations: Unknown_


	22. Chapter 21

_**[Here is where things are no longer in order, and the story is told based on the importance of the scene]** _

**~Wilbur's POV | August 16th~**

He was not scared. He was not scared.

He was terrified. He was horribly frightened, but he wasn't going to _show_ that as he stepped onto the center of the arena after Techno gave the nod. The other twenty-three people were waiting around in the trees, ready to rush out once the Star Signs didn't suspect a thing.

Wilbur gulped as he saw the center of the arena open up to reveal a sort of elevator shaft. About twelve soldiers came spilling out in white armor and back-faced dark blue masks, holding guns. The thirteenth one, apparently the leader, had his helmet in his hands, and Wilbur did not like the way he looked at him.

"Congratulations, son," the man said. "You won the Survival Games."

Wilbur forced a smile onto his face. "That's right."

The soldier held out a hand, and Wilbur clasped it reluctantly. "How'd you do it?"

Wilbur put his hands behind his back, as if mimicking stretching. "Well, I let Techno and False kill each other, and some of the others did as well, and still some more died from dehydration and starvation; Darryl and Zak died - "

"Yeah, yeah," the man said, looking bored. "Any last words to this place?"

"Yes," Wilbur said. He spun and raised his voice to the people in the trees. "Viva la revolution."

But as he drew his sword and whirled back to face the commander, there was pain, there was blackness...and then there was nothing at all. 

**~Tommy's POV | August 16th~**

No no no no no no no no.

This couldn't be happening. 

Tears were pouring down his face as he ran across the field, first out of the forest with people screaming at him to _stop_ but he couldn't stop because as the words left Wilbur's mouth and he turned to draw his sword, the commander drew his pistol and shot his friend in the back. 

He had his sword and then Techno was by his side cutting down the soldier that aimed his gun at him, and Tommy ducked them all as he sunk to the ground, shaking, next to the body of his friend, who was _staring at nothing_ , nothing at all because he was dead -

There were screams of people, two to be exact, and he didn't know who it was as he put down his sword on the grass and he dug his fingers into Wilbur's neck like Stress had taught them how to do to feel a pulse.

There wasn't even a faint thumping of a pulse.

There was nothing at all.

Tears were slicking Tommy's face and there was a rage in his blood as he lifted up his sword and _stood_ , looking for the commander - where? Where was he?

There was laser fire and shouting and screaming and a wolf howling before being cut off, and someone screamed, _"NO!"_ at the top of their lungs - he thought it was Vurb, but he really didn't know, not as he stumbled over to the commander, who was fighting False in hand-to-hand combat - 

-and stabbed the white-suited guy in the back just as much as the commander had killed his friend. 

No remorse.

None at all.

False was panting as she watched them drop, her eyes going to Tommy, looking horrified as he drew the blade from the commander's back. The battle faded around them.

"STRESS!" someone screamed - that was Grian, he thought, and the girl in question came running out of the trees with her medical backpack, looking horrified as her eyes darted around the field, and Tommy spun to see that the soldiers were dead and gone and lying on the ground - but so was Wilbur.

"You good?" False whispered, but Tommy brushed her off as he saw Stress crouching by a red-haired girl, whose chest was heaving, but was slowing - and he saw Zak by the body of a tall brown-haired man - that was Geo, but he was so still, and so was Jacob, who had also gotten shot, with Vurb and Mega next to him - and Cleo was _dying_ , and then her breath stilled and Stress sat back looking shell-shocked as Iskall pushed her out of the way and started doing CPR. 

Tommy sank to his knees, reaching out a hand to feel Wilbur's, even as he watched Iskall fail and fail again to revive the red-haired girl named Cleo.

"Come _on_ , Cleo," Stress was saying, sobbing, and even False stumbled over there, but after nothing happened Iskall sat back on his heels, looking horrified as Cleo's green eyes stared upward into the sky at nothing at all. 

Everything was so cold. 

Wilbur was dead.

Wilbur and Cleo and Jacob and Geo were dead and gone and cold and still and they had won.

They had won, but they also had lost.

They had won the battle, but there were many more to come. 

**~Zak's POV | August 16th~**

"Casualty report?" he heard Techno say to False, and he wiped away his tears as he stepped away from Geo's body, _forcing himself_ to drop the hand of the quickly-cooling body. 

"How can you be so _heartless_?" he demanded, looking around them - at everyone who was crying and Tommy, who just looked numb next to Wilbur on the ground. 

"A leader must retain a strong front," Techno said coolly. "If I break down then everything will go wrong. They are coming back, soon - Mumbo unjammed the cameras long enough for the world to see what happened. _They are coming back_ , and we cannot be here when it happens."

"Why are you so indifferent?" Zak sobbed, dropping to his knees, He felt Darryl's hands on his shoulders as he stared at Geo, then at Jacob - at Cleo, and then finally at Wilbur.

"I'm not _indifferent_ ," Techno said _coldly_. "I'm helping us survive. Crying isn't going to do anything right now." 

"You're a bitch, you know that?" Tommy, of all people, spat out. _Tommy_ , who looked up to Techno and respected him. 

"If that's what you think," Techno shrugged. "But I'm trying to keep the rest of you alive right now."

False cleared her throat awkwardly, wiping at her eyes with her sleeve. "We lost Cleo, Jacob, Geo, and Wilbur. Oh, and Tortuga."

Techno nodded. 

"HOW CAN YOU BE SO CALLOUS ABOUT THIS?" Zak screamed. "HOW CAN YOU STAND THERE AND NOT CARE?"

Techno suddenly developed a furious look, and Zak fell back against Darryl, a bit of fear lurching through him. "I do care, _Zak_ ," he said. "I just hide it a hell of a lot better than you lot." Techno picked up his sword and started walking towards the forest. "False, get them to the campsite."

The blonde-haired girl nodded. "What about you?"

"I need some alone time."

**~Techno's POV | August 16th~**

They didn't understand that he _had_ to be that way. That he had to be 'indifferent' and 'callous' and, according to Tommy, a 'bitch'. 

Those words hurt.

But he was doing it for the better. If everyone

Techno rested his head in his hands and felt tears poke at the corners of his eyes. Nobody was there to see him cry. To judge him. He didn't know how far out he was; only that he'd walked and walked until he'd collapsed against a tree and started sobbing.

He wasn't being a good leader. He should be _back_ there, now, leading them, but instead, he was out here, alone, crying over the death of his friend. He should have been stronger. 

"Techno?"

His head whipped up when he heard Phil's voice. "Phil? What are you doing here?"

"Looking over you."

Techno snorted, watching as the older man sat down at the bottom of the tree next to him. "Well, I'm _fine_ , you can leave now."

Phil's lips composed into a fine line. "You're not fine, Techno, and it's okay to not be okay."

"No, it's _not_ ," he burst out. "I should be _leading_ them, I shouldn't be out here breaking down over - "

"Over the death of your friend," Phil said.

Techno stopped mid-sentence. 

"Nobody will judge you for showing your emotions," Phil said quietly, and Techno looked up into the tear-filled blue eyes of his friend. "Wilbur...Wilbur was like a brother to you, and Tommy's words hurt. I know that."

Techno snorted. "What about you?"

Phil shrugged, a sad grin on his face. "Well, you heard him compare the four of us. Tommy as the annoying little brother, Wilbur as the middle child, you as the eldest, and me as the dad."

"That's because you're old."

Phil rolled his eyes. "I'm only four years older than you, mate." His face turned serious. "No, but like, it's okay to show that you're sad," he said honestly. "I think people will respect you a lot more if you're in the same boat they're in. You don't have to hide your tears, Techno. It's okay to be sad."

Techno floundered. "It's just - "

He could not finish.

He could see Wilbur playing his guitar, singing quietly - he could see his friend bullying Tommy like the older brother he said he was; he could see him writing speeches into his book and then protecting Tommy like the other brother he was.

Hot tears dripped down his face, and he closed his eyes, lowering his face to his knees.

Wilbur was dead. 

Geo was dead. Jacob was dead.

Cleo was dead.

There were twenty of them left, and the first part of the plan hadn't even been triggered yet. Wilbur had a big role in the next part. What would they do without his emotionally moving words? How would they get their House members to move and do something if they didn't have moveable words?

This had only been the first battle. Dread filled Techno at the thought of the next and the next and the next. The fewer people they had, the more they would lose.

But at least now they had guns and plasma shields and - 

Who was he kidding himself? Very few people here knew how to shoot a gun. If they'd been training at all, it had been for the weapons in the arena; like bows and swords and even Cleo's staff. Not guns. Not anything so technological. 

He felt a hand at his back as he sat in contemplation, trying to tell himself that Wilbur was gone, was dead, and it was _his_ plan that had killed his friend. 

He should've been the one to die, not Wilbur. He had created this plan; he should have died in this field. The world didn't need him. It needed Wilbur. It needed the musician; not the warrior. It needed the speaker, not the soldier. 

Yet he remembered Tommy volunteering to take Wilbur's place, and Techno was suddenly glad that Wilbur had flat-out said no. Because then Tommy would have died, and he wouldn't have ever forgiven himself for letting a child going onto the field.

Still, Tommy and Zak's words had hurt out there. He had been fighting so hard to keep the tears at bay, had resisted kneeling down after Tommy had run to Wilbur; telling himself that Tommy had it handled, that he was needed because he was a warrior, that he could protect them. He had told himself, _lied_ to himself, that Wilbur was still breathing. The moment he had seen Tommy's horrified look, he had known. He had hoped Tommy to be wrong, even though he had seen Wilbur's brown eyes looking at nothing with his own eyes - he had prayed that the boy was wrong.

But he hadn't been, and then in a fit of rage, Tommy had killed the commander. Techno wondered if Tommy cared that he had just taken a life - of course, he'd been thinking at the moment _then_ , but when they all lay awake at night, remembering and trying to sleep, what would Tommy think then?

What were all the people, including himself, going to think after the adrenaline and horror ran out? After they were left alone to their thoughts?

 _This was why soldiers in war were always kept busy_ , he realized. _So they didn't think about what they did; only the present_.

Too late for that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cry
> 
> cry
> 
> cry
> 
> CRY


	23. Chapter 22

**~Tommy's POV | August 17th~**

It was a bit after midnight, and he was sitting with Toby at the base of a tree. Technically, he wasn't supposed to be here - he was supposed to be sleeping, and Toby was taking night watch, but Tommy couldn't sleep, and Toby had graciously allowed him to come along to talk together. 

Also, he hadn't wanted to talk to Techno. 

"Hey, everything is going to be okay," Toby soothed him.

"It's really not, Toby," Tommy said, desperation leaking in his tone. "Wilbur is dead - and others are gonna die, I'm sure, and nobody will ever be free, and we will have died for _nothing_."

"Not for nothing," Toby said. "We will have died fighting instead of died fighting together."

Tommy sighed, wiping away the tears angrily. "I've got to stop crying, Toby."

"Do you?"

"Do I? Do I? YES! Yes, I do!" he burst out. "It's not very manly of me."

"I think it's fine."

"Yes, but you're a child."

"Oh." 

"Don't worry about it."

"You suppose Wilbur and Geo and Jacob and Cleo are laughing at us?" Toby said suddenly, looking up at the stars.

"You do realize that those stars aren't real, and that this is all an illusion, right?"

Toby spun to face him. "What?" 

Tommy laughed at his friend's petrified expression, "Nah. I have no idea if the sky is real or not. But there's a barrier blocking us from going anywhere else, and Techno and False said something about disabling it. I wasn't paying attention."

"You should have paid attention," Toby chastised. 

"Says _you_! You're dyslexic!"

"That's not what dyslexic means, Tommy."

"No, no, I'm pretty sure I know what I'm talking about."

"...right."

There was a moment of silence as both boys peered through the trees at the stars. 

"I really miss him," Tommy said quietly.

"What?"

"I miss Wilbur," Tommy sniffed. "I can't believe he died." He reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew a small leather-bound notebook. "Look, this is his song notebook thingy."

"Why do you have it?"

"I dunno, I asked for it one time, and he said I could pry it out of his cold, dead, fingers. So I did."

"Tommy!"

" _What_?"

"Oh my gosh, Tommy, really?"

"What do you mean, _really_? He said I could!"

"Yeah, good point. What's in it?" Toby leaned forward, looking interested. 

Tommy sighed as he flipped open the notebook. "There are a lot of songs in here." He cleared his throat and read one of the lines. "... _I've got her key, but you're just her doormat_." He shoved the book at Toby. "Go on, sing the next one."

Toby squinted at it. "Even he had local hills - "

"No, no," Tommy said, cutting him off. 

"I can't read, Tommy!"

"Right." Tommy cleared his throat again. " _And even though he's got social skills, doesn't mean I can't pay her bills_ \- is this a fucking _love_ song?" Toby didn't reply. "Toby?"

He looked up. 

Screamed. Backed away, book in hand, _scrambling_ \- because Toby's brown eyes stared into nothing and there was a fucking hole in his head, a bit of metal glistening in all the redness. A gunshot. A second one rang out, and Tommy dodged it instinctively, turning and running. 

Running. 

Running.

Gunshots. 

Toby was dead.

Toby was dead.

Toby was dead. 

And now his chest fucking hurt, and he was pretty sure he'd been hit with a bullet. 

**~Phil's POV | August 17th~**

He was awoken by a scream.

"I swear to god," he heard Zak say as they all scrambled to their feet. "I _swear to god_ if Tommy is playing us, that _child_ \- "

They all heard it. A gunshot, then two, then _three_ \- and then the forest was full of them, and they had their weapons out, and Phil had one of the thirteen guns in his hand, aiming it into the darkness, but there was nothing there - 

Movement.

"DON'T SHOOT!" Techno roared, and Phil yanked his hand away from the trigger of the gun as Tommy came rushing out of the trees, and _why oh why was there blood leaking from his mouth_ , and where was _Toby_ \- 

Tommy stumbled and fell onto the ground, and Techno and Phil were by his side in an instant, and Phil saw with a horrified glance that there was a _gunshot wound_ in the kid's back and it was smoking and it had hit near his heart - 

"Toby's dead," the boy breathed, lifting up his hand to reveal a notebook, now splotched with blood. "This...was...Wilbur's. Take...it."

"No," Techno sobbed, _openly_ so, now, and he didn't seem to care but why oh why was Phil focusing on _that_ as Tommy drew a shuddering breath. "STRESS!"

She could fix him. She could fix him.

"I'll...tell...Wilbur...you...said...hello," Tommy gasped out, his chest heaving with the strength it took to talk. 

"Everything's going to be fine," Phil said gently, resting a hand on Tommy's shoulder, the kid's blue eyes shifting to him.

"Bull...shit," Tommy breathed. "Give...them...hell...for...me."

He could see it. Phil saw the moment the life faded from the youth's vibrant blue eyes.

Techno howled.

Phil stood up and turned around - and realized the reason Stress hadn't come. 

Nearly three dozen soldiers were circling them, and one of them was holding a gun to Stress's head, the rest pointing at everyone else.

Techno stood up, grabbing for his sword, but Phil saw the safety lift off the guns and he grabbed Techno's hand before they _all_ died.

"You're under arrest," one of them growled. "For treason against the Zodiac Signs." 

**~False's POV | August 17th~**

Tommy's body hadn't been moved. Her hands were tied behind her back, their weapons confiscated, but she didn't like the fact that they didn't _touch_ Tommy's body - or Toby's, wherever he was, because apparently both of the children had joined the constellations in the sky with Wilbur and Geo and Jacob and Cleo. 

She felt...numb. Techno looked stupefied; as if he'd lost his fight. They were _losing their family_ , one by one. There were six gone already, and it hadn't even been twenty-four hours. Would she be gone by the dawn of the next day? Would Techno?

Apparently, the elevator wouldn't open up until morning, so the twenty-seven soldiers had tied all eighteen of them up, False and Techno the tightest of them all, but Stress didn't even have her hands tied at the back of her, because they thought she wasn't a threat. She wasn't. 

Tomy and Toby joined the list of names that ran through her head every second. The list of those that had perished.

Stress sneezed, interrupting her thoughts. 

"Bless you," Grian called.

"Thank - " Stress said, and then sneezed again. "Oops."

"Bless you."

She sneezed again.

"Would you _cut that out_ ," one of the soldiers said in annoyance.

"It's _allergies_ ," Stress wailed, lifting her nose to her shoulder and rubbing at it. 

"I should just kill you right now - "

A second shoulder knocked the gun out of the first's hands. "Boss wants them all alive."

"Didn't stop you from killing Tommy," Zak snarls, and then shouts when the nearest soldier hits him in the head with the butt of his gun. He comes up angry and snarling - but he's silent. 

Stress sneezed again. 

" _Stop that_ ," the first soldier growled. False fought back a grin. She saw others doing that as well. 

"I told you," Stress said, sniffing. "I'm allergic. Specifically to lavender." She sneezed again. "I can make tea for it if you want me to be quiet."

"No."

She sneezed again.

"Alright, fine."

Stress's eyes lit up. "Great! My throat was parched anyway." She paused, sneezing, and False held back a giggle as some of the soldiers groaned in annoyance. "If you could just put the pot of water over the fire - "

"How about _you do it_ ," a fifth soldier said, going over and cutting away Stress's bonds. False fought to keep the surprise off her face. 

"Why'd you do that?" a sixth one said.

Five snorted. "She's the pacifist - she can't harm us."

False was seriously hoping Stress wouldn't do something to get them all killed. She watched the brown-haired girl pour some water into the pot, and place the lid over it, and then meander over to her pack.

Six caught her hand. "What are you doing?"

"It's tea," Stress said, sounding annoyed, and False _really hoped_ that she wasn't about to get everyone shot. "I need the actual allergy stuff, anyway, and then some flavoring."

"Alright, alright," Six said, raising his hands in defeat as Stress stared him down. 

She sneezed, huffed, pulled a bunch of leaves and things False couldn't see from the shadows of the fire, picked at them, discarded some, and then dropped it into the fire. 

"Can I have one?" a seventh soldier asked.

"It's _my_ tea," Stress argued. "No, no you can't."

Four rifled through Stress's discarded pack and pulled out thirty mini cups made from wood - made by Scar earlier this day when he'd done his whole whittling thing. "Well, there seem to be enough cups for all of us. Pour it up, girl."

Stress rolled her eyes. "I can't guarantee you'll like it." She pulled the pot away from the fire, snatched the cups from Four's hand, and put a bit of the steaming flavored hot water into each cup, handing it around the circle.

"Can I have some?" Zak asked hopefully.

" _No_ ," One growled. Zak shrank back.

"Sir, what if this is poison?" Two asked. 

Stress scoffed. So did Four. "She's a pacifist, remember?" Four scoffed, downing it all in one go and making a small face. "The ones at the compound are better."

Stress sat down in a huff, the rest of the soldiers - minus Four - watching as she drank the tea and tossed the tiny cup away, Scar making a small sound of discontentment. "Yeah, listen to what he said. I'm a pacifist, remember? I don't like causing harm."

Well, that wasn't the direct meaning of pacifist, but False was sure Stress was just tired. She frowned as she saw Stress reach to itch her chest, but pull something out of her shirt and toss it away. Just a small clump of pine needles, probably from the fall she'd made. 

Ten minutes passed.

As the last cup was deposited onto the floor, and False was just about ready to fall asleep, Four leaped up with a strangled sound. "My nose is bleeding!"

Stress _laughed_. 

_Laughed_.

False looked over and saw that the girl's face was shining with red blood as well, but she was still giggling. "Isn't literally the first rule of war _don't eat with your enemies because they might poison you_?" 

"You did not poison the tea," Six said, sounding bored.

Four stumbled, clutching his heart.

"Nightswolf," Stress said lightly, reaching up a hand to wipe the blood away from her face. "A single berry can stop a heart. In tea, however, it'll take a few minutes for it to...set in." 

False felt horror and _awe_ fill her as Four dropped to the ground, unmoving. 

She. Did. Not.

Except she had. She _had_. 

Stress was still giggling. "You do realize a pacifist is someone who opposes physical violence as a means of conflict?" she choked out, and False didn't see what was so _funny_. "Guess what? This wasn't physical!" She choked for a second, her chest heaving, and False didn't see regret in her face at all. She saw Stress turn towards her and wink, raising up her hand to reveal a small flash drive in the center of her palm. 

She died with a smile in her face and her laughter in the air.

False _screamed_. Shouts echoed after her - surprise and horror and terror and _fear_. She struggled with her bonds, crawling over to Stress's empty brown eyes, blood still freely trickling down her face and stabbed her fingers into Stress's wrist, looking for a pulse that wasn't there because she had taken _nightswolf berries_ with her tea and had died. She took the small flash drive and cupped it in her hands, wondering what it was. 

But as False turned around, at the chaos around them - she realized that Stress had done one, very important thing. Her eyes saw the small sprig of _lavender_ that Stress had pulled out of her shirt and thrown away - on purpose, this had all been on _purpose_ and this had been the girl's plan _all along_.

She had freed them all. 

But she had died as well.


	24. Chapter 23

**~Iskall's POV | August 17th~**

"I wish we had the time for a funeral for each of them," False said, tears running down her face, her hands shaking as she projected her voice from her position on the ground. "I - I wish things hadn't ended like this, Stress." Iskall bit his lip, holding in a shaky sob as False placed a lily on Stress's grave, marking it the seventh in the line of steadily-growing mounds. "But...thank you. I don't know if you can hear me, if any of you can hear me...but you saved our lives."

Techno was openly crying as he stood by Toby's grave, and Tommy's grave, and Wilbur's grave. "You were my family," he managed to get out between shuddering sobs. "And I'm sorry that I wasn't good enough to protect you. I know Tommy was like the little annoying brother wouldn't shut up, but he was wonderful - and Wilbur was sweet and kind and caring and Toby was the same, and they were too young, especially Toby and Tommy. They were too young to die in a war that they shouldn't even have fought in."

"Geo and Jacob were amazing people," Zak said through gritted teeth, leaning his head on Darryl's shoulder. "They were both from the same house, so I cannot say that I knew them all too well, but they were my friends, and however much Jacob called me stupid and Geo stole my braincells, I loved them like I do my family." Zak took a second to sniff and wipe the tears from his eyes as he forced himself to speak.

"Stress and Tommy were from my house," Darryl said quietly. "I've known them nearly my entire life - and yes, Tommy has always been brash, and Stress has always been too caring. I'm so sorry to both of you - I know you made the choice, Stress, but you didn't have to do that for us. There could've been another way - "

 _No,_ Iskall thought. _No, there probably wasn't_. They would have taken the twenty of them to the compound and they all probably would have been tortured to death. They'd been too surprised over Tommy's death and hadn't seen the soldiers coming, even though they _should have_ \- but they hadn't, and then Stress had poisoned them all, and in doing so...herself.

His chest hurt. 

There were seven dead, and it had only been a day. 

**~George's POV | August 17th~**

"What the hell?" he muttered, turning the datapad on and off, trying to reload the obvious glitch that was happening when he used it.

"What?" Mumbo looked up at him from a second, stolen datapad that they'd recovered off of the bodies of the men that Stress had poisoned. 

George stared dumbfounded at the datapad that he held loosely in his hands. The others were off training or just talking, or just staring at nothing, in the case of Techno. He and Mumbo had the job of getting a flash drive into the system so they could broadcast a speech that Stress had made - before she'd died - to everyone, on a small little flash drive she had composed. 

To do that, they had to first put the speech _into_ the system control room, and then they had to go to the telecast - yeah. Yeah, this was going to be tough. 

But that wasn't what he was surprised about.

No. 

He turned the datapad towards Mumbo. "Do you see what I see?"

"A star, a - " Mumbo cut himself off with a laugh. "Sorry that's a book from my childhood, and you just reminded me - what the heck?" 

"Exactly," George breathed out. 

In front of them lay the plans of the thirteen domes in which they had spent their entire lives - twelve Zodiac domes, and one central dome, which was transformed from the Survival Games to the time when the Zodiacs found love matches, etc. 

But instead of thirteen domes on a grassy plain, surrounded by walls like they'd been _taught_ , been shown - outside was a roaring mass of nuclear wasteland - they...there was nothing at all outside the domes. Nothing but space.

A space station floating around a green and blue cloudy planet. 

George's breaths came in irregular gasps as he stared at it. "We're - we're - " he choked. "They said that Earth had been destroyed by a nuclear war, I mean, we were going to break out anyway, to hell with the radiation poisoning, but I never thought the lies were _this_ bad."

"We're in space," Mumbo said grimly. "Well, there goes part of the plan. We can't blow a hole in the side without dying." 

**~Hanna's POV | August 17th~**

She listened, shell-shocked, as George and Mumbo explained the situation at hand. 

"Well, there goes that part of the escape plan," Techno sighed, looking exhausted - not sleepy, just tired. Hanna understood what was wrong - every minute she felt tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. Toby and Tommy had been on her team; and Tommy had taken an arrow for her. 

She should have died instead of him. 

"Well, according to my research, most space stations should have an emergency landing system," Mumbo said. "I mean, maybe not wheels or anything - "

False snorted. "This thing is a _mile_ across, Mumbo," she reminded him.

"No, I meant like shields," Mumbo said. "So we don't burn up if we enter the atmosphere on our way back down onto the surface of the planet."

There was some silence.

"That's..." Iskall said, trailing off. 

"Yeah, I know, we could die from impact, but that's the backup plan," George said, clearing his throat from attention. "I hacked into the records, and there is some good news and bad news."

"What's the bad news?" Techno said wearily.

"We're in space."

False rolled her eyes. "We knew that already. What's the good news?"

"Well, the good news is that there _are_ escape pods in the telecast room," George said. "And technically we could still use the remote bombs from there and blow the telecast room to kingdom come from a safe distance."

"Why do we need to blow up the telecast room?" Nick asked curiously.

George spared a glance for him. "So they can't interrupt our broadcast. Once it's in air, it'll play because it's already sent."

"So we blow it up, and they can't stop it?" Clay asked.

"Well, no," Mumbo said, doing that thing that Hanna noticed him do a lot when he was nervous - stroke his mustache. "There are two different areas we have to access in order to send - uh - send Stress's message across." There was a slight pause as Mumbo looked at the ground as he said the girl's name. "There's the telecast area, the place where the message will _broadcast_ , like where they announce the daily horoscopes, and then there's the place where the actual messages are entered into the system." Mumbo flipped the datapad over and zoomed in on the blueprints of the _space station_. He touched the central dome, the one they were in now, and scrolled to the underside of it, touching two separate rooms. "They're on the opposite side of the compound." 

"Shit," Zak muttered.

"Language!" Darryl yelped, causing Tommy to roll - 

Hanna squeezed her eyes shut, tears running down her face. No, Tommy wasn't rolling his eyes - Tommy wasn't swearing to piss off Darryl because Tommy was dead and gone and in the ground in the center of the arena. 

"Anyway," Mumbo coughed. "Someone needs to enter _this_ flash drive - " He jerked his finger at George, who was holding it in his hand. " - with Stress's speech, co-written by Wilbur - " Another awkward pause. " - into that part of the system before we even _think_ about broadcasting." 

"I'll do it," Grian and Vincent said at the same time.

"No," Techno snarled. "There will be no more teenagers dying in this war. I won't have it."

"It's our fight too," Vincent said angrily. Grian stayed silent, crossing his arms. 

"This is likely a suicide mission," Techno snapped.

"Do you think that Stress didn't know that when she made her choice?" Vincent snapped right back, and Techno recoiled, and False was on her feet, her eyes dark blue and fierce. 

"She did that to save us," False spat.

"I get to make my own damn choices," Vincent growled. 

" _Not_ when it deals with your safety."

"To _hell_ with safety," Grian said, jumping on the bandwagon. "There are seventeen of us left. _Eight of us are teenagers_. What are you going to do - put me, Vincent, Hanna, Darryl, Zak, Mega, Nick, and Harvey on the sidelines?"

"Yes," Techno said.

"No," False sighed. She gave Techno a hard look. " _No_ , we're not. But I do think we should do a bit more research before we go diving into this place."

"There's no _time_ , False!" Techno said, and Hanna jerked back in surprise as she saw tears brimming in the corners of Techno's eyes. The usually-stoic warrior is _crying_. Not that she really blames him. "In twenty-four hours, seven people died. Who's to say that seven more will be lost in the next twenty-four?" 

"That's not going to happen," False said in a low voice. "I'm not going to let it happen."

"You think I wanted this to happen?" Techno laughed, tears now pouring down his face in little waves. "You think I wanted to watch my friends die? I'm the best warrior we _have_ , and I couldn't save them. I can't save them. I'm not good enough."

"You _are_ good, Techno," Hanna said. "We are fighting an entire nation here. Soldiers and soldiers and armies and _people_ by hundreds. Nobody is good enough to defeat all that."

"I should be," Techno said. "I've trained all my life for this. Just to watch Tommy and Wilbur die, I guess."

" _We're_ still alive," Phil reminded the pink-haired man.

"Not for long," Techno scoffed. "Not at this rate."

" _Don't_ say that," False said. "Please."

"Am I wrong?"

"Yes, you are wrong," False said. "Weren't you the one to tell me to be optimistic? This doesn't seem very optimistic of you." 

"Things aren't exactly looking optimistic, are they, False?"

"Maybe because you're not making them optimistic."

"My friends are dead."

"They're my friends too!"

"STOP ARGUING!" Hanna screamed. She winced as everyone turned to stare at her; False and Techno looking just short of drawing blood. "Both of you are right. Not all of us are dead, but we have no _time_ for extra planning! Techno was right about that; more people are going to die the more time we sit here arguing." 

False sighed. "Hanna...is right. Perhaps we can't waste more time drawing up detailed plans on how to get inside. But I _refuse_ to go in there _blind_ , so if you guys have any blueprints of the station, that would be incredibly helpful."

George gulped. "Well, the elevator shaft is at the center of the arena, and we have the keycards to get in..." He looked at Mumbo. "We'll need to do a bit of drafting...how long?"

"I say two hours," Techno said in a low voice.

False smiled brightly. " _Three_."

"Two."

"Three."

"Two and a half."

"Three."

"Okay, one."

"...fine, two and a half."


	25. Chapter 24

**~Harvey's POV | August 17th~**

Shit, shit, shit.

He ducked behind the plasma shield Phil was conveniently holding up, dodging a bullet - quite literally - and poked one of his guns out, firing at the nearest soldier, and knocking it down. 

"Four more dead here," a voice bubbled into his communicator. He was pretty sure that was Iskall talking, but he wasn't sure. They'd managed to hijack seventeen communicators to form their own password-and-firewall-protected communication wave; with a fourteen-number password so that they could access it within each other, and add new communicators _only_ if the someone knew the password. George had created the firewalls on a datapad for that little bit. 

There was a bit of remorse for taking a life, but Harvey swallowed it down, reminding himself that these were the same people who had killed Tommy, Toby, Geo, Jacob, Cleo, Wilbur, and Stress. 

Techno and False still used their swords, though they'd all donned armor from the soldiers, and Clay had a smaller version of a plasma shield strapped to his arm that he used very effectively during battle. He was pretty nasty with a shield, Harvey had to admit. 

At the moment they were split into three fronts - False's, which he was part of, Phil, Clay, Nick, and Iskall. In Techno's party, there was Mega, Hanna, Scar, Mumbo, and Vurb. 

The third one was falling behind a bit, but they were dealing with it - Zak was leading it with Darryl, Vincent, Grian, and George. Harvey gritted his teeth and ducked into frame, shooting a shot and cursing when he missed. 

They had been planning to enter the elevator shaft, but soldiers - nearly fifty of them, at this point - had arrived to block them. Luckily, with the bulletproof (ish) armor, the plasma shields, and all the technology they'd 'acquired', only one person had been hit; Mumbo, who was hiding behind Scar's plasma shield clutching his left arm. 

Things were going quite well. They'd killed about forty of the soldiers; False and Techno having done the most damage upfront with their swords, when, of course, things went horribly wrong.

He knew he was being too optimistic. 

He heard Grian scream and heard Zak shout, and he turned with horror to see the short red-sweatered man fall _down_ , hard, and he didn't move, and he had no idea if Grian was still alive or not, or if they had lost another, and then the left front _shattered_ as Zak was disarmed and then George went down with a cry next to Grian, and the battle paused as everyone turned to watch Zak be pushed to the ground next to Darryl, who also had a gun pointed to his skull. Vincent was pushed to the ground next to the other Muffinheads, his hands raised in the air, and Harvey saw him glancing down at Grian and George. 

"STOP!" 

It was one of the soldiers; his voice magnified. Techno stopped fighting, lowering his sword and stepping away, as the other twelve turned in a unified front to face the three soldiers who held the blasters to the heads of their friends; fingers on the triggers. 

Harvey was so afraid to breathe. 

"Step away," the same soldier with the magnified voice said. 

Harvey saw with relief as George groaned and flipped onto his front, looking in pain - but he was alive; whereas Grian didn't move, but he couldn't _think_ about that, not now. 

They waited too long. There was hesitation as half of the twelve backed up quickly, but the other six stood their ground, and _that_ was when they made their mistake. 

"Alright," the soldier said. He turned his gun and shot George through the skull.

Harvey heard Clay _scream_ , and then they were all backing up as fast as fast as they could towards the treeline, and Nick was dragging Clay backward, the blonde-haired man with a horrifying snarl on his face as he fought to run in a suicidal run towards the soldiers. The one who had shot George had an ugly look on his face, self-satisfied and plain _evil_.

Harvey suddenly had no regrets for killing the soldiers that he had. 

He knew George was dead. Grian was as well. Zak and Darryl and Vincent were on their knees, their weapons gone from their hands, looking afraid to move as their eyes went to George and Grian on the ground, and then back up to the twelve others that stood at the edge of the treeline. 

"Come forward with your hands raised, weapons dropped, and we will _think_ about not killing you criminals," the soldier that had killed George snarled loudly.

There was another moment of silence. 

"RUN!" Vincent suddenly screamed. "RUN THEY'RE GOING TO KILL US ANYWAY, RUN - "

A second shot rang out on the battlefield, and he heard Darryl scream as Vincent dropped to the ground, and Harvey turned and _ran_ through the woods, hoping and praying he did not hear two more shots sound out. 

He could not determine whether he did or not. 

**~Clay's POV | August 17th~**

He felt numb as Mumbo turned the datapad on, after activating their chips - not the trackers, just the portion that showed they were alive. 

Fourteen of twenty-four blinked green - but _not_ George's, because George was dead and gone, and he sobbed on Nick's shoulder, feeling embarrassed - but he couldn't stop himself.

The only good thing was that he saw Zak and Darryl's green lights blinking. They were alive. They were still alive. 

Probably being tortured, but alive. 

"I failed them," he heard Techno choke out, and looked up to see False trying to calm them down. "I - I _failed_ them."

"It's not your fault," False soothed. 

"It _is_ ," Techno said. "I led them into battle and they died." he pointed disjointedly at the datapad that Mumbo loosely held. "Grian - and George - and - and Vincent are dead."

"You are one person," False reminded him. " _One_ person. Nobody saw this coming."

"I should have."

"You're stupid for thinking that," False said.

Mumbo and Iskall and Scar sat next to each other, each of them glancing at the datapad every few seconds. Grian was dead. 

George was dead. Clay choked. If only he had moved faster; George would probably be alive. Being tortured, but alive. _Alive_.

Not joining Tommy and Toby and Cleo and Wilbur and Geo and Jacob and Stress in the ground. 

Fourteen of them were left. Technically twelve, but he was afraid to look back at the datapad and see that Darryl and Zak's lights weren't blinking green; just the endless abysmal red that the light next to George's name was. 

He sobbed again.

"Shh," Nick said soothingly. "It's going to be okay."

But it _wasn't_. Because George was dead - George, one of his best friends whom he'd met barely two weeks ago - George, one of the lights in his life that made him smile and he teased endlessly - George, who he laughed with even at the worst of times.

He hated himself because he never thought like this for the other people, except maybe Tommy and Toby, but he was closer to George; though he loathed to admit it. 

He hoped that George was laughing with Tommy in a place far warmer and nicer than the space station they currently resided in, crying around a fire - joined even by Techno, whom Clay doesn't have the strength to tell the warrior that it wasn't his fault - because it really wasn't; Clay didn't expect Techno to teleport across the arena and somehow save George. 

He should've been next to George, protecting him. Him and Grian and Vincent.

"You would have died too," Nick murmured under his breath, and Clay realized that he must've said that out loud, but he couldn't muster a reply because he was too sleepy - well, not really, but he wanted to be away from the world where George was dead. 

So he closed his eyes and fell asleep, _hoping_ , _praying_ , that when he woke up, this was all some stupid fever dream and George would wake him up by poking him with a stick and then laughing as Clay chased him around, thirsty for revenge. 

**~Zak's POV | August 18th~**

He was in shock. He'd watched as three of his comrades died - first Grian, and then George, and then _Vincent_ , who had been part of the muffin trio they'd created back in the practice rooms.

All of a sudden things seemed _real -_ they had before, but now they were even _more real_. He sat with his back against the wall of a glass cube in the middle of an empty room after something had been injected into his neck. He doesn't want to think of the thing that currently sat in his dirt-ridden hair - the only thing that wasn't checked out. For once he is glad he has fluffy, stick-everywhere hair. 

Because he can hide things in them.

Especially a certain flash drive he picked up off George by pretending to fall. He couldn't let the Zodiacs have them. Not one bit, not at _all_. Not in the slightest. He could _not_. 

He saw Darryl was shaking and moved over the rest his head on Darryl's shoulder. He had no idea what they would do next. They'd already tried to ask Zak and Darryl about the others - the twelve that remained, and that thought certainly put a bit of a pit in his stomach - but of course, they'd refused.

Zak was pretty sure they had nothing left to tell the Zodiacs anyway. Besides the plan to put the flash drive that he currently had tied in his hair of Stress talking. 

He had a thought.

He and Darryl were already _in_ the compound. What if they somehow escaped and went to the information area, put the flash drive in, ran away, and remote-detonated it like planned? Everything would work out!

That was, if...

  * the Zodiacs didn't find the flash drive
  * He and Darryl weren't tortured to death
  * He and Darryl didn't die in some other untimely way



Yeah, that would suck. 

"Hey, it's gonna be okay," he promised Darryl next to him when his boyfriend whimpered.

"You promise?"

He paused. "Yes," he said, after a moment of thought. "Everything is going to turn out fine."

"I'm not going to die?"

He debated lying to his boyfriend, but he cannot. "I don't know."

"Are you going to die?"

He didn't know that either. He hoped not. The memory of the gun going off and Vincent falling replayed through his mind, and he shuddered and pushed that to the side. He wouldn't deal with that right now. "I hope not." 

"That doesn't make me feel better," Darryl sniffed. 

"Am I supposed to lie to you?"

"Yes!"

"Then you would yell at me for lying," he argued.

"Because lying is bad, Zak."

"But you just said - "

Then the water started pouring in. 

**~Darryl's POV | August 18th~**

Everything hurt. 

He remembered floundering in the water, desperately trying to reach air in a box where there wasn't any air, he remembered Zak pounding against the glass furiously. He remembered sinking in the deep blueness, bubbles trailing aimlessly from his open mouth, he remembered turning and seeing Zak floating with his eyes closed, his skin bearing a shallow shade of blue. 

He remembered the pain as his lungs finally let the water in, he remembered the fear as the water started to choke him - but it became peaceful as he sank towards the bottom.

Was this how it ended? Was this how they died?

He remembered sinking into blackness, reaching out and grabbing Zak's cold hand as his vision gave out. He remembered the warmth of Zak's hand as they faded.

He remembered dying.

**~Techno's POV | August 18th~**

"Hey, can I join you?" he asked False, who was holding the datapad with the list of all the people alive and dead. Oh, thank goodness - Darryl and Zak were still alive.

"It's a free country," she says numbly.

"Actually, it's a dystopian society with autocratic oppressors."

False snorted. "Shut up, Techno."

He watched as the green lights next to Zak and Darryl's names flicker red. He couldn't do anything about it as False's breath hitched and his own heart skipped a beat.

Then green.

He couldn't do anything but watch. 

Then red again.

A single tear rolled down his cheek as False gripped his wrist, biting her lip as they prayed, the light flickering. Silence. Silence. 

Green. 

Red again.

There was nothing they could do. The lights flickered again - first green, then red. Longer intervals. He could only watch the datapad as their life flickered...flickered...

Went out. First Zak, and then Darryl.

 _They had failed_. 

Tears fell freely down his face.


	26. Chapter 25

**~Zak's POV | August 19th~**

The first thing that he remembered was a burning sensation, and he raised a hand to feel at his neck. Bandaged. There were bandages around his neck.

"I removed your tracker," a familiar voice said. 

He coughed wetly, blinking his eyes to disperse the blurriness. "W - Where's Darryl?"

"Oh, he's fine, don't worry about it," the familiar voice said, and he saw as brown hair came into view; a girl with long blue and pink cloud nails, a heavy amount of makeup, and a pretty complexion. 

"Rose?" Rose shrugged, and Zak glanced around to see that they were in some kind of medbay. "Didn't I drown?"

"You did," Rose confirmed. "I shot the guards, got you two out of there." She smiled, low and sweet, and pointed over at another one of the medical beds, where Zak saw with relief, Darryl sleeping. "This is in my personal quarters. The Zodiacs think you're dead. I removed your trackers."

Zak felt a rising fear in his chest as he reached around in his hair. It wasn't there. It wasn't there. _It wasn't there_.

He must have lost it. 

"Either you have lice, or you're looking for this," Rose said with a small grin, spinning around in her chair and holding out a small metal flash drive. Zak grabbed it, surprised the girl let him. "Stress is quite an influential speaker. Wilbur is an exceptional writer. Together, they made a speech that I'm sure will reach the hearts of even the deepest loyalists."

Zak felt confused. "Whose side are you on?"

Rose stared at him, calculating. "You know, I recently discovered that we appear to be on a space station surrounding a terraformed planet," she said. 

Zak blinked. "Okay, yeah, but I know that already." 

"Did you know that Earth was destroyed when it was knocked off-course?" Rose continued evenly, and Zak's jaw dropped. "The planet we are circling is Mars, our sister planet after Earth got too close to the sun and became unlivable. I... did not know this." She looked unsettled. "But I plan to get off here, and down onto that planet if it kills me." 

Zak stared at her. "How?"

"There are escape pods everywhere," she said slowly. "I don't know how I didn't see this before. But what you plan to do..." Rose took a shaky breath. "I'm sorry, Zak, but after everything that's happened...I cannot join you."

He smiled. "I know, Rose. You've done enough."

"It's just, after all the life, I just thought that I wanted to get out of here," Rose continued quietly. "Without the Zodiacs, without the Elders, without anybody."

"Okay," he said. "Okay."

"But I will help you," Rose said. "Even if I am not going with you, I can help you get to the information center." She winced. "I...am sorry for the deaths of your friends. They were wonderful people who deserved to be alive alongside you." 

**~Darryl's POV | August 19th~**

Darryl slammed the door shut, wincing as the pinging of bullets echoed throughout the information center. He rubbed his neck; it hurt a lot, but he watched as Zak fired his gun and knocked down three soldiers that were currently in the data hub.

They had said goodbye to Rose, who had caused a diversion, and ran through the hallways, occasionally having to down a few soldiers who tried to kill them.

He was tired of death. He put a hand on Zak's shoulder and watched as the shorter boy knelt down and put the flash drive into its port. 

_"Transferring information. Please wait thirty seconds."_

He winced as a dent appeared in the metal door, and took no hesitation to shooting the door controls. There were at least two battalions of soldiers out there.

"Well," Zak said. "We're not leaving this room."

He glanced around. There were no other exits - there was nothing except blinking lights and metal and the transferring signal.

_"Fifteen seconds."_

"They can remove the data," Darryl remembered. "They can remove it from the system because this is the control center. The data where it's stored isn't actually here, and it'll take a few days, or maybe even a week, for them to find the data manually and remove it from the system."

"You sound like a nerd," Zak snickered.

He blushed. "Hey! That's rude!"

_"Data has been inserted into the system."_

Zak was quiet. "We have to blow it up, don't we." It wasn't a question.

Darryl winced as he heard another explosion outside the barred door. "...yeah."

Zak closed his eyes, and Darryl could've sworn his boyfriend was crying, but the black-haired boy dropped his gun and walked over to the control panel, muttering things under his breath as he flipped a few switches. "Can you contact the group?" he asked flippantly.

Darryl cleared his throat and walked over to the mic system, entering the codes that he'd been forced to memorize. He hit enter and then was quiet as he held down the call button. The only sounds in the room of flickering lights were the buttons being tapped and the levers being switched and the muttering of the boy he was absolutely and totally in love with. That and muted explosions from behind the door, sounding louder and louder as they breached each layer that the two boys had jammed.

"Hello?" Darryl tried. 

"Darryl?" Hanna asked excitedly. "OH MY GOD, YOU'RE ALIVE - "

"Hanna, there's no time," Darryl said. "We're in the information center - " he broke off and looked at Zak, who paused in his work and glanced over at Darryl, offering a small, melancholic smile. " - we entered the data into the system." He took a breath. "We're gonna detonate the system."

"That's great!" Hanna said excitedly. "Where are you now? We can try to rescue you - "

"There isn't going to be a rescue," Zak called loudly, and Hanna went silent. "There are soldiers out there, and they're breaking in. We can't let them remove the data from the system. We're trapped in here." 

There was another bit of silence. "Don't you _dare_ \- "

"Darryl, on my count of ten, I need you to hit those two buttons," Zak interrupted, dragging Darryl over and pointing at two buttons; one red and one yellow. 

He nodded. Once. Sharply. 

"Ten," Zak breathed, wincing as the soldiers burst through the second-to-last bit of the door. He had his hand over two buttons as well, across from the control panel, staring into Darryl's eyes. 

Darryl noted with a small sad smile that Zak's eyes were like melted chocolate. They were beautiful. 

"Nine."

" - DON'T YOU DARE!" Hanna screamed, her voice shaking. "DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE!"

"Eight."

"I love you, Zak," Darryl said softly.

The boy smiled up at him sorrowfully. "Seven."

"IT'S NOT WORTH IT!"

"I wish we could have had more time," Darryl whispered. "You deserve the world, little muffin."

A single tear trickled down Zak's cheek. "Six."

"I wish we didn't have to do this," Darryl said. "I wish that we could have a happily ever after."

"That doesn't exist," Zak whispered back. "I wish so too." He paused. "Five."

"I love you, please don't do this," Hanna sobbed. "Please, please, _PLEASE_!"

"Four."

He stared down at the two buttons under his sweaty palms. Then back up at Zak, who was watching him. "I'm sorry it has to end like this, Zak."

"I'm sorry too," Zak breathed. "Three."

"SURRENDER, PLEASE DON'T DIE, NOT FOR THIS - "

"Two."

The door burst open, but Darryl was entranced by Zak's face as they leaned forward and kissed. Zak's lips tasted like cocoa beans and dried cranberries, but Darryl didn't care.

"One."

They broke apart, and Darryl wasn't even crying as he stared into the face of the only person in the world that took his entire heart from him. The one person that he loved so incredibly much. The one person that he felt like deserved the entire world, deserved more than that, even.

"Step away from the control panel," one of the soldiers said sternly.

" _Zero_."

"I love you," Darryl said desperately. "I love you, Zak." 

Zak smiled at him.

The soldiers shouted something, but it was too late - too late as the two boys slammed their hands down on the buttons of the control panel. 

A burst of pain.

Then sweet, blessed darkness.

**~Hanna's POV | August 19th~**

She screamed as an explosion rocked the arena, shaking the ground they were in, and she crashed against a tree, but she didn't _care_ \- not as the mic cut out and a bit of smoke wafted through cracks in the ground that led to the compound. 

She was still screaming as her knees hit the ground and she crashed to the floor, unhurt, uninjured, but in _pain_. She felt rather than saw a tree fall to the ground near her, as the communicator scattered out of her grip to the earthy ground. 

Someone was hauling her up by her shoulders, and she was kicking and screaming, tears streaming down her face as she came face-to-face with Vurb, who was shouting around her screams. 

No. No, she would never be okay. 

Her life crashed down on her. Toby and Tommy and Stress and Geo and Jacob and Vincent and Grian and George and Wilbur, and now Zak and Darryl as well.

It was worse because they'd been dead nto once - but twice. And hearing Darryl's voice through her communicator had been so wonderful. 

But they were gone again.

Just like that. 

To save a speech that was not in a database system that they had to sneak into the telecast room to release. To help the people in this space station be free. 

She was sobbing as Vurb shook her roughly by the shoulders, muttering things incoherently. 

"Hanna!" Techno shouted, bringing her out of her stinging pain and memories as she came face-to-face with the pink-haired man. "Are you hurt?"

"No, no," she choked out. "Zak and Darryl just blew up the information center with Stress's speech in it."

Techno's jaw dropped. "They're _alive_?" 

He sounded overjoyed and turned to run, presumably towards the rest of the group. 

Hanna caught his shoulder. "Techno - Techno, they didn't make it out. They blew themselves up."

Techno turned towards her. Slowly. A horrified expression on his face.

A fresh wave of tears fell down her face. Her heart ached. 

Twelve were dead, twelve remained. So many people had died for this revolution. So many people, just for a stupid chance at survival. She bit her lip until it bled, until blood ran down her face, and she didn't even notice Vurb was gone as she stared down at her shaking hands. 

She was so afraid.

Her friends died in front of her. Only now she broke down. As smoke seeped through the seams in the ground - as the window for them to broadcast Stress's speech faded, she stared at Techno, and he stared at her, silent except for the occasional sobs that she tried - she really did - to stifle, but could not. 

She wasn't strong enough to deal with this.

Techno was hugging her, and she hugged him back, squeezing him so tightly she was sure he couldn't breathe, and she felt wet drops drip into her hair - he was crying. She didn't care as she buried her face in his arm and sobbed. 

_They were dead they were dead they were dead they were dead they were dead they were dead they were dead they were dead they were dead -_

"Shh," Techno said. "Shh, everything's gonna be okay."

But it wasn't.

Nothing would ever be okay again.


	27. Chapter 26

**~False's POV | August 19th~**

Her throat felt hollow as she explained the plan to the remaining eleven other contestants. Her voice sounded, dull, dry, and she could tell half the people weren't even paying attention. Hanna sat with a blanket around her, staring into the fire, her brown eyes flat. 

"We have a window of about twenty-four hours before they manually remove Stress's speech from the data center," she explained to everyone, looking at Mumbo, who nodded from his position next to Iskall.

Iskall had lost an eye - his mechanical one - after a piece of shrapnel had entered it from being too close to the explosion, but he claimed he was fine - and though False didn't deign to believe him, she had to, for the sake of the party. There were only twelve of them left now.

She brought up the map. "We have to go down these passageways and down _that_ ladder in order to sneak by the barracks - "

"Isn't that suicide?" Clay voiced.

She turned to him. "Perhaps. But if we do not try, then the twelve other people - our friends - died for nothing." 

"I'm sure they don't want us dead, though," Nick pointed out. "For what?"

"A chance at freedom," she said. "To get down to that planet with the Zodiacs. To free people from an oppressive society."

"Obviously you listened to Stress's speech too much," Techno joked.

"Is she wrong?" False challenged. "Pitting children against each other? _Killing_ said children?" She saw that struck a nerve against Techno - and felt bad using Tommy and Toby as martyrs against the rest of the party. "Besides, the nearest escape pods are located there. If you want, we can storm the barracks?" 

"Yeah, no thanks," Iskall said, exchanging the cloth covering his injured eye with a cleaner one. 

"That's what I thought." 

**~Mega's POV | August 19th~**

There were huge holes in the ground, ones that allowed the twelve of them to sneak down into the base. There was smoke in the air, and Mega put an arm over his face in an effort to not cough. He still walked with a limp, and winced at the barest amount of pressure placed upon the injury, but he _would not_ complain. 

He did not know how to shoot a gun, but he had that - that and a plasma shield that he also did not know how to use, but Mumbo had said to those of them - the seven - that had plasma shields, to just press the button and it should expand to cover a two-by-six foot area. Or something like that.

False and Techno still had their swords, but each of them had a gun holstered to their sides, just in case. Neither of them had a plasma shield, claiming they didn't need it, False much more reluctantly than Techno. But she'd handed it off to Hanna, who had taken it gratefully, and he had seen a satisfied look on the blonde-haired girl's face. 

He glanced over and saw Mumbo staring down at the datapad that George had previously carried; staring at the twelve names whose bars lay red, not green like the dozen that snuck around the halls. Iskall nudged the tall mustached man, and he started, before glancing around sheepishly and making eye contact with Mega, who just stared at him. 

They all had lost friends. 

Friends were a bit of a stretch. Maybe acquaintances. But if Mega knew one thing for sure - however annoying they were, none of them deserved to die. 

And that was saying something, 'cause Tommy and Zak were _really_ annoying. 

**~Iskall's POV | August 19th~**

He took the datapad out of Mumbo's hand and tucked it into his pocket. The raven-haired man looked a bit lost without it, and Iskall seriously debated giving it back - Mumbo was more likely to shoot allies than enemies, based on the brief training he'd been given.

But staring at dead friends was almost worse, and Iskall almost wanted to just stare at Grian's name over and over and over, hoping that it would blink green. That this was just some horrible mistake. 

"Hey." Iskall looked up in surprise, out of his narrowed vision - stuff in his eye had torn and he hadn't had time to fix it. Scar was talking. "You good, man?"

He nodded. "Yeah. What about you?" He knew both Vincent and Grian were from Scar's house, and Clay, while putting on a brave face, had lost George as well - so he was wondering how the blonde-haired man was holding up.

Hanna looked horrible, as well, but the more he glanced around, he saw, except for False and Techno and Clay - who wasn't hiding it all too well - they all had haunted and horrified looks either buried deeply or worn openly on their faces. 

And no matter how gross Darryl and Zak had acted - they were _serious_ idiots - he did miss them, just a bit. Their silliness had made things a bit easier. 

He saw the arm that False put on Techno's shoulder. Saw how the pink-haired man shrugged it off. He knew that the warrior had liked Tommy like a little brother, and Wilbur like a friend, and there were so many _gone_. 

He couldn't believe it. It was almost mind-numbing in a way. Phil, the eldest, had mentioned something about shock. 

He felt as if the next brightly-lit corner they went around would reveal the other dozen joking and pushing each other around, and the world would end peacefully.

He knew this was false. 

**~Harvey's POV | August 19th~**

It was cold. 

They'd bumped into a group of soldiers - around three dozen of them, and both parties had been surprised; a brief pause before the gunfire had started. Harvey had been talking with False about something, he didn't remember, so he had been in front, and hadn't had time to put up his shield to block the bullets that sprayed from the guns of the soldiers dressed in white.

So now he was cold. 

"Harvey!" someone was saying. It didn't really matter; it couldn't be time to get up yet, could it? He was sleepy, he just wanted to drift off.

"...turn off the lights," he muttered, unable to find the energy to throw a hand over his face. The white illuminants burned spots in his retinas. 

"Harvey, no, you gotta get up," someone said - that was Clay, maybe? Could be Nick. Why were they bothering him?

"Don't wanna," he murmured. "It's cold."

There was a bit of a silence. 

"Come on, Harvey," he heard False say. "We've got to make it to the end."

What end?

He was confused. Wasn't he sleeping in his bed - wait.

Memories flashed. 

No, no, no - he'd been shot, he was dying, this _couldn't be how it ends_ , but everything was drifting and everything was blurry and he saw a flash of yellow hair before his vision left him and everything went _silent_. 

**~Hanna's POV | August 19th~**

She held Vurb's hand as he died. 

She saw False crouched over Harvey, and saw him fade. 

No matter how weird Vurb had been, he had always been her friend. Her housemate. The Cancer in her life - quite literally, he could be very annoying. 

She choked down a sob as her hair fell over her face, blood on her hands from trying and failing to staunch the wound. One surprise attack, and they had lost two. Sure, the soldiers lay dead - mostly because of Techno and False's bloodthirstiness, but they had lost two. She didn't even have to glance over at the datapad Iskall had taken out to see that their bars glowed red instead of green.

"DAMMIT!" Techno shouted, his voice echoing down the halls, as he banged his fist on the side of the hallway. Hanna looked over in surprise, wiping the tears down her face, and leaving a trail of blood in the process. 

False murmured something to him, but she had tears on her face as well, and she looked exhausted. Tired. They were all so tired. She turned to face the group. "We've got to get moving," she said.

"At least give us some time!" Hanna demanded.

False's face softened when she looked over at her. "Hanna, I'm sorry, but they know we're here." She pointed at the soldiers. "They probably have some creepy locator or statistical information on the dead soldiers. We have to go, or more will die."

Hanna sobbed loudly, clapping a hand over her mouth to stop the loud noises from escaping her as Scar helped her to her feet, Nick and Clay moving from Harvey's side as well. 

There were ten of them left. 

She saw False bend down and pick up Harvey's shield and toss it to Mumbo, who hadn't had one. The mustached man nodded, attaching it to his wrist as his friend, Iskall, clapped him on the back.

There was a lump in her throat as she swallowed heavily. 

She had to stop crying. 

She followed Techno as they broke off into a jog, rounding corners and following Iskall's muttered directions from the hastily-jotted down blueprints they'd taken earlier. A couple of times, they had to backtrack because Techno or False or whoever was closest heard soldiers coming from the break in the hallways, and they had to scatter and hide around the corners, praying they didn't come down the passages they were hiding in. 

She felt numb and broken and off. 

**~Phil's POV | August 19th~**

He kept glancing at Techno, who had the same neutral look that he always had, unless it broke - like when Wilbur and Tommy had died, or in the hallway when they'd lost two more. 

And then two more. 

He heard Clay _scream_ as Nick fell, blown back by a particularly nasty wave of firing, and he winced, holding up his shield to block himself and Mega, whose leg wasn't looking all too well, but was trying to hold himself up high.

He knew Nick was dead before he hit the ground. 

Clay went absolutely _crazy,_ running into the fray and forcing False and Techno - the latter cursing - to jump in after them. They took most of the shots, though Phil was pretty sure once it was over that Clay wished he had died.

He looked over and felt horror drip through him as he saw Scar and Mumbo downed as well, with Iskall kneeling between the two. He walked over and moved Iskall's shaking hands aside to check for pulses.

"I'm sorry, Iskall," he said helplessly. 

"I...can't believe it, dude," Iskall whispered. "One moment we were comparing how many we'd killed, 'cause you know, anything for a distraction, and then I look over and he's lying next to Scar. Just...dead."

Three. He looked around, counting. 

Seven of them left. Hanna was leaning against the wall, her gun forgotten on the ground, sobbing. Techno was fighting something internally, his eyes cold and empty and _angry_ , and False was kneeling next to Scar, murmuring something under her breath - perhaps a prayer to help him into the afterlife, or something like that. Clay was just _empty_ , and he had a hand on Nick's chest and it was clenched into a fist, and Phil had half a mind to take the gun away from the blonde-haired boy, for fear of something worse than being downed in the field. 

He couldn't. There were only seven of them left. 

Mega's leg was bleeding profusely - his stitches must've popped, but there was no time to repair them, so Phil walked over and hauled the young kid up, making a face at the wince that filled the kid's face. 

"It's going to be alright," he said in a soothing tone. "We're going to get through this."

Mega snorted. "At this rate? No fucking way." His tone was angry and bitter, and he was scared, not that Phil blamed him. 

Speaking of which..."You can talk?" he asked.

"Of course I can." It was a bit hoarse, but that made sense, as Phil had never seen him talk. He let the boy lean on him in support.

"We have to go up the ladder," False said quietly.

"We can't do this," Clay said, his head shaking, and _he_ was shaking. "We - I - "

"Too late now," Techno said darkly. "Besides, we stay here, and we die, or we try to get off this stupid space station while releasing a message to the other Zodiacs."

"I'd almost rather take the first option," Clay said, and Phil _really_ wanted to take the gun away from the blonde-haired man, but there were too few fighters to do that. 

There was no time.


	28. Chapter 27

**~Clay's POV | August 19th~**

He almost wanted to end it, but for the fact that the other's deaths would be meaningless - that they would have died for nothing. 

He felt empty, first without George, then Zak and Darryl - and Nick had been the last straw, but he knew it wouldn't be the _last_ straw. 

"People are coming," he heard Techno murmur. "We have to head up the ladder." 

Mega looked up suddenly, as Clay got to his feet, shaking, Hanna stumbling into him and rubbing her eyes. He didn't know her that well, but he hugged her to his chest and let her sob on him; felt his own tears drift down his face in waves.

Dead. So many dead. Seven left. 

"I can't climb up," Mega said, his voice crackly and horrible, but Clay understood him. 

"I'll help you," Phil said, as they all started walking - and limping; Clay was pretty sure he'd gotten shot in the leg - towards the ladder at the end of the hallway, all while the lights flickered and the reverberation of boots against metal echoed through the passageways, coming closer. 

"No," Mega said suddenly, pulling away. From her position at the ladder, False whipped her head around and stared at him. 

The young kid had a brave front on, but there was blood leaking from his shoe where he stepped, and Clay winced, accidentally squeezing Hanna's hand tighter; that must hurt a lot. 

The kid pulled out his shield. "I - I can hack a bit," he admitted. "I know how to hotwire things. I can get this to explode, give you guys a bit more time - "

"NO!" Techno shouted. "NO! No way! No more children are giving up their lives to save us!"

**~Mega's POV | August 19th~**

Mega smirked. "That's not really your choice to make, is it?" he asked, slamming his hand on his shield, and saw with delight the timer he'd made start to count down. "Can't stop it now." 

"MEGA!" False shrieked. "What the _hell_ do you think you're doing?"

"Giving you time," he said honestly, pushing Phil away and starting to back up, wincing with every step. "Besides, I'm injured, I'll just slow you down." 

He was not afraid. 

Zak and Darryl and Stress had done the same thing. 

"NO!" Techno roared, and he was surprised a the raw emotion that came from him. 

"Too late," he whispered.

It was an odd thing, speaking. 

But they didn't know how to disable it - even Mega had no idea how to disable it, he had only learned to hotwire to get his classmates' robotic cars they built to blow up - sort of - so he could win by default. He had no idea it would end like this.

False wrenched Techno's hand up forward onto the ladder, and he saw her give him once last look before she vanished, Techno following her lead. 

He walked around the corner and into a group of soldiers. He put his hands up, praying they didn't notice the timer.

_Twelve..._

_Eleven..._

"I give up," he said loudly, praying they didn't shoot him and walk over him. "You can take me back to headquarters."

_Ten..._

_Nine..._

One of them scoffed. "You dissentients think you're _so_ smart, don't you?"

_Four..._

_Three..._

He grinned. "Yes, I think we are pretty smart. Smarter than _you_." A biting remark, but he couldn't really help it. 

"Why, you little - " 

_One._

**~False's POV | August 19th~**

She heard the explosion, felt the blast as she tugged up Phil, the last one, to safety. She closed her eyes and let herself cry a single tear before getting up and heading towards the telecast room. 

It wouldn't last very long.

Hanna and Clay were clinging together - they'd both lost nearly everyone, and so had she, and so had _everyone_ \- Iskall looked ready to die on his feet, and Phil looked horrified and Techno - don't even get her _started_ on Techno.

He was a huge mess.

She knew he knew how to hide his emotions well. Too well. It made him an emotionless robot, at points. He was doing it now, but she knew him well enough to spot the fear and anger in him - the slight curling of his lip, the wince when she grabbed his elbow to get his attention.

"Techno, Mumbo taught you how to hotwire the telegraph room, right?" she said. He nodded. "You go do that - press the play button while you're at it, and get the detonator. The rest of us will get the escape pods ready." He gave a brisk nod, and without another word, moved into the telecasting room.

She watched his retreating back and sighed. They'd deal with his emotional state later. She turned to the four other sorry-looking Zodiacs left. "Come on, guys, let's get this escape started!"

**~Techno's POV | August 19th~**

He had a controller in his hand. If he pressed it, then Stress's recording would start playing. He went over Mumbo and George's words in his head, trying to remember their conversations as he attached another piece to the device - one that would blow the place to kingdom come.

He was numb. 

There were six of them left - eighteen had died. Their plan had been stupid.

He should have just killed them. It would have made things easier. 

As soon as the thought crossed his mind he banged his head against the wall. He was glad that the door separating him and the others were closed - he would have looked like an idiot. 

Also, ouch, that hurt. 

But his pain didn't matter, not when Tommy and Wilbur and Toby and so many were fucking gone. 

_"Language,"_ the semblance of Darryl whispered in his ear. He shook off the voices. They would go away. 

_"You're stupid, we're never leaving,"_ Tommy said. 

_"Yeah, dude, we're here to annoy you forever,_ " Zak teased. 

His hands shook, and he clenched them putting the controller down briefly so he wouldn't break it. Their voices, while comforting, were also a reminder of his failures.

He was supposed to be the greatest warrior around. He had failed, miserably. Sure, False, Hanna, Clay, Phil, and Iskall were all alive, but _again_ , he had let people sacrifice themselves for him.

First Stress, then Zak and Darryl, and now Mega. He'd seen, briefly, the datapad that Iskall had clutched onto throughout the journey. There was so much red, and so little green.

He supposed he should be glad that False was still alive. And, sure, he was, but he was being greedy, and he wished that the young annoying blue-eyed kid and his quieter friend would be back. And the yellow-sweatered musician. The pingspoofer, and the muffin head, and the baguette boy, the apple, the beaver-furry, the cat-leopard-furry, the toe-licker - okay maybe not him - the wolf tamer, the pacifist, the mute, the mustached man, the short red-sweatered prankster, the landscaper - he felt a grin force itself onto his face as he shook his head, chuckling, before he wiped himself clean. 

He didn't deserve to laugh or smile. He had failed so miserably that it wasn't even applicable to a scoreboard. He had lost so much and he had tried so hard, but looking back, he should have tried _harder_ , he shouldn't have let Toby and Tommy go off on night watch together. Sure, they would have hated him, but at least they would be alive. 

He shouldn't have allowed the left front to fall, for George and Vincent to die and then Zak and Darryl to get taken away and throw their lives away for some stupid speech. 

He hoped that this was worth it. That getting the rest of the zodiacs to know what was going on was _worth it_. That Stress and Wilbur's last words - said by the pacifist girl herself - was worth all of the death, all of _this_. 

He finished the last remaining parts of the controller. "False? Did you finish getting the escape pods out - " his voice cut out as he opened the door. 

"Drop the detonator, _boy_ ," a soldier sneered - the same one that had a gun pointed to False's head.

He was in shock.

They had been in this position before, and George and Vincent had died anyway, how could he trust them - but the five others were held at gunpoint as well, he did not doubt that they would all die if he handed over the controller. 

He locked eyes with False, and her eyes were full of remorse. 

" _Push it,"_ she mouthed. " _We are going to die anyway. All of us. Push the button and end it._ "

He was shaking slightly. If he did not push the button - he had no doubt the soldiers would kill the six of them. He had seen them do the same to Vincent and George. If he pushed the button, he would kill the six of them and the soldiers.

He would send Stress's message out to the six domes. 

But there was the _chance_ that the soldiers would spare them. 

He remembered Rose's words.

 _There is a fate worse than death_.

Endless torture. 

He looked into the eyes of the five people kneeling, the five people he called his friends. Phil was staring at him, mouthing the same thing that False was, and Hanna was biting her lip, tears pouring down her face. Clay was just numb, staring off - Techno had no doubt he would be dead already if he didn't have a legacy to finish. Iskall was attempting to act brave, but his singular eye was shifting around, looking for a way out of this mess. 

They were supposed to escape. They were supposed to be free from this stupid dystopian society. They were supposed to roam free on the planet below and talk and laugh and have dinner together - and have a future.

This was not at all like the books he'd read. In the books, the antagonist was defeated and the protagonist was free. People died along the way, but in the end, they won. 

This was not at all like the stories. He'd known that - this was not like the books, this was _real life_ , but he had hoped that it would be applicable. He had hoped that it wouldn't end in his own demise.

"Drop the detonator," a soldier hissed, and Techno looked at the soldier and saw the evilness that lurked there as he jammed his gun farther into Hanna's head, causing the brown-haired girl to squeak in pain. 

He knew, right then and there, that if he were to drop the detonator, he would be shot. He and probably False as well - and Clay - he had no idea about the others, but he had the feeling that the person who had the gun jammed against Hanna's head was trigger-happy and probably didn't care about the contestants of the Survival Games, especially since they were going against everything that the society stood for. In their eyes, they were rebels - dissentients - people who deserved to fall. 

If he pressed the button under his thumb, they would all die. He would be destroying any chance that they would escape on their own. 

In the books, the protagonist was stupid and would always give up everything for their friends.

But this was real life.

He knew that if he let the detonator drop, then they would all die, whether it be right then or there, or endless torture.

Wilbur's words filled his head.

_But I'm not your protagonist_

_I'm not even my own_

"I'm sorry," he said aloud, to his friends, and he saw understanding fill False - the soldiers thought he was apologizing to them, and he was, but not in the way they thought. 

He was apologizing for killing them.

He looked directly into the eyes of the man whose gun was pointed at False's head - saw the residue of glee and victory there.

 _"Not today, bitch,"_ he heard Tommy's voice echo into his head.

He lifted the detonator up into the air like he was going to drop it.

And then he pressed the button.

The soldier's eyes widened for the half-second that they were there, and False's smile widened - and then Techno heard the roar of fire and heat and then nothing at all.

Peace and silence and bliss. 


	29. Chapter 28

**~Rose's POV | August 19th~**

She leaped up, clapping a hand over her mouth as she watched Techno press the trigger. She saw the explosion before the cameras gave out, and she glanced down at the monitors to see with a bit of glee that they had blown a hole open in the side of the space station.

She hadn't even known they were in a space station until a few days ago. 

Rose closed her eyes and sat down heavily on the bed. Twenty four of them - dead, gone. Trying to escape. She'd been following their progress, trying to divert the soldiers whenever possible. She wasn't a fighter, not even close. 

_"My name is Stress of the Aries House."_

She jumped when she heard the intercoms go off, instead of the cool metallic voice - it was the voice of the brown-haired, doe-eyed girl that had refused to fight. That had killed herself and the soldiers with a cup of tea.

She'd respected that, and then she'd cried. 

_"You may wonder about the Survival Games, and why the cameras were shut off. We turned them off."_

Rose bent over the monitor and tapped furiously, trying to keep the Elders out of the coding, so they couldn't turn the intercoms off. She had to keep them out - because Stress was gone and dead and she knew what Darryl and Zak had placed into the informational center, now.

_"We turned them off because we refused to be part of a game that shouldn't exist. We turned them off because we refused to kill the people that we called our friends, our family."_

Pride swelled in her at the words. They hadn't killed each other - instead they had died at the hands of the enemy. 

_"We refused to fight in a game to the death against our fellow peers and Zodiacs. Look around at each other. Your friends. Ask yourself if you could possibly lift a weapon to their chest. No? Neither could we."_

Something panged in her chest for Taylor, her friend. She wished that everyone in _her_ Survival Games had come together, like this. They had died anyway, at each other's hands.

_"Neither could we, and so we decided to fight. Fight against the people who put us in this dome, who shot and murdered us, who is the reason that we all lie dead today."_

Rose stiffened. How could Stress have possibly known that they were gone?

 _"Fight against the society that puts children - mere sixteen-year-olds - against each other. Fight for your friends, against the Elders that do not allow us to_ love _and hate freely. Fight for the people that paved the way for a greater sense of freedom. You look around, at the emotions you have been hiding - at the people you are forced to become because of the months you were born in._

_"For those of you that have fallen in love with someone of the same gender - that is perfectly okay. For those of you who have fallen in love with someone who is not deemed compatible - that is a huge pile of absolute bullshit."_

She'd never heard Stress swear before. Well, there's a first time for everything. And a last time.

 _"Zak and Darryl were two of the silliest people I've ever deemed to meet. Darryl was an Aries, and Zak a Capricorn. You know as well as I do that they aren't compatible by House - or by gender. They fell in love anyway, and in my opinion, they were perfect for each other. I don't know how love works, because I never grew old enough to get a Match. I'm glad I didn't."_ There's a scathing tone in the recording voice. _"I would rather die than spend the rest of my life pretending to be in love with someone I had no interest in. The love between Zak and Darryl was_ real _love. Was the love you read from books and essays. Matches force you to choose between a small gap of people depending on the month, or the day. You should be free to love anyone you want._

 _You should be free to be anyone you want. In the weeks leading up to where I sit here, recording this, in case I die early, I have thrown away everything I was as an Aries. I am passionate, yes, but I am in no way independent. Everyone here acts nothing like the House that they come from - because that is no way to decide emotions,_ Zodiac Signs. _That is no way to decide a future. You should be free to choose whatever you want. You should be free to be anything you want to be._

_Forever have the dystopian nation, this space ship, circling above a planet, cast great sins upon us. They have robbed us of our freedoms. Imprisoned us from the knowledge we should gain. Killed many of our people through the foul use of the Survival Games. This time of tyranny ends with us._

_Together, we are one. When in the course of human events it becomes necessary to dissolve the bonds that bind us. Disregarding this truth is nothing short of autocracy._

_We hold these truths to be self-evident. That all people were created equal - to love, to hope - to dream freely. The right of the people exists above the right of any government and the right of the economy._

_From the arena of the Survival Games, in which twenty-three of us were sentenced to death, we shall prevail._

_Life._

_Liberty._

_And the pursuit of victory._

_I am asking you to fight for your freedom. You do not realize that you are chained until you can see. You do not realize that there is more outside the cage until you_ get _outside the cage._

_Martyrs, we may be. But if it gains everyone else's freedom, then so be it._

_Fight. If not for us, than for your friends. For the people that one day you may be forced to kill - fight so that this tyranny never happens again. So we can all be free."_

Rose sat back in her chair as the intercom flickered off. She glanced at the camera screens again - at the holes and the bodies of the two-dozen people who had given up their lives to pass a single message through the system to the Zodiac Domes.

Then she made her decision and rose to continue what two dozen people had started. 


	30. Chapter 29

**~Rose's POV~**

You know it now. 

This is the story of twenty-four heroes and no villains in sight - this is the story of how twenty-four brave individuals died to save a hundred thousand others. To give people without freedom, liberty to its truest extent. 

This is the story of how twenty-four people saved a society.

My name is Rose, and I sit here today telling the story of the twenty-four people - enemies on a field, the chosen that stood together against an oppressive society. 

The twenty-four people who gave up their lives, one by one, to transmit a message that single-handedly allowed the Zodiacs to come together and take over the space station. The message made by two very important individuals - Stress and Wilbur, and Aries and a Virgo - two people who died alongside their friends, who should have been enemies, who weren't. 

So many more. 

Zak and Darryl, who single-handedly put the message into the system, and then consequently blew the room up to stop the transmission of the message from being stopped. 

To Techno, who stood before his friends and made the choice to send the message and blow the telecast room up, _knowing_ that they were all going to die anyway. To False, who brought people together at the worst of times. To Tommy and Toby and Mega, who died too young and too full of life to experience the horrors of life. 

To the contestants who chose not to be enemies and to be friends instead. To overthrow a society that didn't accept differences - that tried to force people to be the same. Let it be known that we are free, now, on the terraformed planet of Mars, in the Rebellion's Land. We watched as the space station blew up, far above in the stars.

I led the people to freedom, even though I said I would not. I did what Taylor would have wanted many years ago. I got past my ridiculous fear of failure and death and I followed in your selfless footsteps. 

To Darryl and Tommy and Stress and Cleo and Harvey and Techno and False and Hanna and Vurb and Vincent and Clay and Grian and Scar and Wilbur and Jacob and Geo and George and Mumbo and Zak and Toby and Iskall and Mega and Nick and Phil. 

Thank you. Thank you for being stronger, for being fearless, for attempting something that could only be done in stories and legends. I know you cannot read these words that I write, but I am free. _We_ sit upon this hill as free people because of what you have done. You gave us everything, and you paid the ultimate price. So thank you. This is for you.

To those that suffered so others could prevail. 

This is their story, the real one. 

You may have heard of them. 

Star Signs - heroes - free, to the very end. 

**_The End_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story was written for my hundred-follower-special, but most especially because I usually bring people back from death, and it was easy to guess that I would continue doing that. I made it impossible to guess what I'm going to do in my following stories. 
> 
> So really, this was a gift to me, not to you.
> 
> Suck it.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it. 
> 
> Hope you cried, and have an amazing day!
> 
> ~Aria Cinabun


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